


Ties and Binds

by auchterlonie



Series: An Agent's Life [10]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Brothers, Childhood Trauma, Clint doesn't, F/M, Family, Gen, M/M, Pepper as Rescue (Marvel), Phil believes in people, Sobriety, Torture, Trust Issues, getting the Avengers to Assemble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 10:39:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1344436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auchterlonie/pseuds/auchterlonie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following the events of Nemesis, the Avengers (save for Thor) have begun building lives in Stark's private research town, Pottsville. But even in suburbia, their lives are not quiet. Stark has a lot to prove to the team and doing so will come at some expense... especially once Loki appears to spark chaos.</p><p>(Builds off of previous works in the series, but a 'previously on' style note is provided if you want to pick up here.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ties and Binds

**Author's Note:**

> I'll admit, this one nearly defeated me. I sat down to write one story, but a completely different one emerged. This is the story that wanted to be told instead and I hope you enjoy it. It has been an interesting journey...  
> Thanks as always to epeeblade for the beta and, in particular, for encouraging me to keep going with it.
> 
> Previously on (key points): After a failed coup attempt at SHIELD makes Clint the victim of a vicious mind control program, he and Phil move to Stark's private research town, Pottsville, and begin building a quieter life together. They'd left Nat behind to oversee affairs and, most importantly, hide a fugitive Banner. Over time she started to fall for Bruce, despite his infuriating tendencies towards love and kindness. His willingness to forgive - even after Tony attempts to manipulate and experiment on him - ultimately exposes their location to SHIELD and leads to Nat's arrest. Released but fired (the better of the presented options), Nat and Bruce find their way to Pottsville, where Tony has also gone after Pepper kicked him out...

Steve Rogers was not happy. Phil could tell because, well, Steve was an open book. It didn’t take a lot of intelligence gathering to determine his mood.

Another reinforced heavy bag went up on the rack as Steve began hour five of his solo boxing session. A pile of broken, discarded bags from earlier in the session sat to his left while a pile of new bags sat waiting on his right, their very presence suggesting it would be a long night.

Phil sat quietly in the corner and waited. He knew better than to interrupt and besides, it wasn’t like he was going to grow tired of watching anyway. He was content to let Steve take the time he needed.

“I feel like you’re going to ask me for an autograph, Mr. Coulson.”

“Of course not, sir,” Phil replied. He already had one. It was vintage.

Steve paused and let out an audible, frustrated sigh. He turned to look at Phil.

“They’re only just starting to trust each other,” he said, finally getting off his chest what had been bothering him.

“Yes, sir. That’s true.”

“But it’s fragile. I can’t decide if Stark either doesn’t get that or doesn’t care.”

“I think he cares very much, sir. He just doesn’t know how to deal with it.”

“Deal with what? Being on a team?”

“Having people to watch his back, yes. I think that’s an entirely new experience for him.”

“Well… he’d better learn how to deal with it soon or he’s not going to have to worry about it. Barton’s going to kill him if he doesn’t lay off.”

Steve turned back to the bag and resumed punching, seeming to collect his thoughts. Phil could guess what Steve really wanted to say but was being too polite to bring up outright; he was unhappy with how Phil was treating Tony.

“You think I’m coddling him,” Phil said for him.

“Protecting him, yes.”

“I owe him, sir.”

“We all do, Mr. Coulson, but there’s paying your debts and then there’s letting someone run roughshod over you. At some point, you have to ask when enough’s enough.”

“When the time comes, sir, I will but for now, I think Tony needs us. Between New York, the Mandarin, Banner, and Pepper… he’s lost. He doesn’t know where he fits. We can give him that direction.”

“Perhaps,” Steve replied, turning back to look at Phil. “But what if giving him that direction costs you Clint?”

“Sir, I don’t… it’s not going to cost me Clint.”

“Hmm…” Steve answered. He turned back to the bag. “Clint’s the butt of every one of his jokes and so far, he’s taken it because of you. But you’re deluding yourself, Mr. Coulson, if you think he’ll take it forever. The man is barely stable himself and didn’t have the greatest self-confidence to begin with. You let him keep taking body blows like this… and he’s going to eventually tap out.”

As soon as he said it, Phil knew Steve was right. Tony was not dealing with his problems and giving him more time seemed to only make things worse. Phil _wanted_ to give him more time. He knew how much Pepper had meant to him; she’d not only been the only true love of his life, she’d been the only stabilizing influence he’d ever known. When she’d left – and with good reason, in Phil’s opinion – Tony’s already fragile world had shattered. He needed to pick up the pieces and rebuild trust, same as Clint had needed.

But unlike Clint, being a defensive ass was the only way Tony knew how to deal with his emotional turmoil and he’d done nothing but goad Clint since he’d returned to Pottsville. He’d tried goading the others, too, but Clint was the only one he could get a rise out of, so Clint had become the usual target.

Phil had asked Clint not to take Tony’s bait and he had grudgingly agreed. That Tony had so far _not_ been beaten to a pulp was testament to how far Clint trusted Phil, but at the same time, Steve was right that the sniping was becoming too much. At this rate, trying to bring the team together might actually end up driving the team apart.

But even still, walking away from Tony just didn’t feel fright. It felt like leaving a man behind. And Phil Coulson never left a man behind.

“Do you have a suggestion, sir?”

“Tough love, Mr. Coulson. Give Stark a choice and let him make it.”

“But what exactly is the choice, sir? We’re not a part of S.H.I.E.L.D., so what are we?”

“That’s the choice you have to give him - and give to all of them. They have to decide if we’re a team or not. And frankly Mr. Coulson? If they don’t come together soon… they’re not going to come together at all. They’re going to kill each other.”

“Or get each other killed.”

Steve paused for just a moment and Phil knew that he’d identified the real fear they both had.

“God forbid, Mr. Coulson. We’ve already been through that once.”

Steve resumed his work with the heavy bag and Phil knew the conversation was over. He sat for another few minutes, collecting his thoughts and watching Steve box. He had to find a way to bring the team together and he knew that meant looking for trouble. As a psychosomatic twinge spread across his scarred chest, he was reminded of just how much he hated trouble.

But then again, Steve had said ‘we,’ meaning that Steve, at least, believed in the team. And in Phil. And when Captain America believed in you, you couldn’t fail.

Phil got up and quietly slipped out of the gym. He knew he’d find a way to bring the team together. Again. And hopefully this time without anyone dying.

***

Clint raced through the trees, searching for his target. He knew he was pushing himself to the edge of his gymnastic ability as he bounded from snow covered branch to snow covered branch, but he also knew it was the fastest way to cover the ground and time was of the essence. His target would not be immobile for long.

He slowed as he approached the make-shift trap he’d built and silently nocked an arrow. It was obvious that his trap was empty, but the target couldn’t have gotten very far. A drop of blood, small but stark against the white snow, suggested they might even be easy to track.

Clint shifted his weight on the branch and scanned the area. He searched tree after tree looking for anything out of place. Seeing nothing alarming, he was just about to continue moving when a barely discernible glimpse of movement caught his eye. He ran at full speed down the branch and leapt, rolling through the snow as he landed and coming up with an arrow aimed at his target’s neck.

“That’s three, Nat,” he said, smiling broadly.

She matched his smile. “Is it?” She held his stare just long enough to make him hesitate. He slowly looked to his right as a faint flash of red light caught his attention.

She’d tacked a small repulsor grenade to a tree, just at chest level. It blinked once more and exploded, sending him flying through the air. He landed in a snow drift forty feet away and continued sliding for another twenty feet.

Nat laughed victoriously and trudged towards him. “I believe _that_ is three.”

“A grenade Nat? Really?” he asked from his sprawled position in the snow.

“Consider it a warning,” she replied, reaching out a hand to help him up. “You ever grill my man again and I’ll have your balls.”

“What?” he asked innocently as he stood. “I had to be sure of his intentions. I wouldn’t want him taking advantage of you.”

They looked at each for a solid moment and then simultaneously started laughing. Heartily.

Clint wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “I’m really glad you’re here, Nat.”

She smiled and leaned into him. “Me too.”

Clint knew it was a rare moment of publically displayed affection that was only made possible by their absolute seclusion in the woods… and he relished it. He loved her like family and was always glad to find ways to show her that. Even if it meant taking a repulsor grenade to the chest.

“You ok?” she asked after a moment.

“Fine, why?” he replied, pulling away. He had a feeling she wasn’t asking about the rib she’d just broken and if that was the case, he’d didn’t want to talk.

“That’s why. Since when do you get defensive around me?”

“I’m not defensive.”

“No. Not at all. I can tell because of how open and forthright you are.”

He gave her a look and collected his bow from the snow drift. “I’m fine. Are you guys coming to dinner tonight? I think Phil said something about making paella.”

“Yes, but don’t change the subject. Or is that your way of telling me Coulson’s the problem?”

“Coulson’s not the problem.”

“Stark, then?” When Clint didn’t reply, she nodded. “Ok. Stark. Well… why don’t you just shoot him?”

“Phil asked me not to,” he replied glumly, making her laugh.

“Of course he did. Why don’t you just do it anyway?”

Clint didn’t even look at her; he just turned and started trudging through the snow towards home.

“Ahhh…” she continued, moving to follow. “You _are_ thinking of doing it anyway. Against Phil’s orders. I kind of like that. It reminds me of the Clint Barton I used to know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing… just never thought I’d see the day when Clint Barton got whipped.”

That made him stop. “I’m not… a kept man, Natasha. I’m not at his beck and call. He asked a favor, I granted it. End of story.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night.”

“Drop it, Nat. It’s not like you have any room to judge right now anyway. I’m pretty sure I know the nickname Banner gave you.” He eyed her, threatening to say it out loud.

“Alright,” she answered, putting her hands up in mock surrender. “All I am saying is that you’re down. And I notice. I care about stuff like that. If Coulson isn’t treating you right…”

“Phil is not the problem,” he answered firmly enough to get her to back off.

“Alright,” she answered more softly. “Then we have to deal with Stark. If your hands are tied, I’ll take care of him.”

“Yeah?” he asked hopefully. She nodded and Clint smiled with evident relief. “Thanks, Nat. I’d appreciate that.”

She shrugged like it was no big deal and he suspected that to her it wasn’t – she’d been looking to shut Stark’s mouth for a while. Clint was just providing her the excuse… and he was ok with that.

“But you guys are coming to dinner tonight?” he continued, changing the subject back.

“Yes. I need to get Bruce out of the lab. He’s starting to get that pasty look again.”

“As opposed to his more usual tanned look?”

Nat elbowed him in the rib and he forced himself not to flinch.

“Be nice to him,” she warned. “And make sure there is wine.”

“Fine. But you make sure he doesn’t monopolize Phil talking about books or whatever.”

***

“Oh I agree, Phil. He really is an underrated author. Did you read his follow-up?”

Clint looked pointedly across the table at Nat, who was not even trying to contain her mischievous smile. Phil caught the look and had a guess what it was about. He sipped his wine and leaned back in his chair.

“No, Bruce, I haven’t had the chance yet. Was it good?”

Phil flicked his eyes to Nat as Bruce began his review. Her smile broadened with understanding as she realized Phil was up for the game of torturing Clint. He noted when Clint kicked her under the table and knew it was going to take some serious effort that night to put a smile back on Clint’s face. He enjoyed the prospect.

“You’re awfully quiet over there, Cap. Everything alright?” Clint asked, interrupting Bruce’s fourth book review of the night and spoiling their fun.

Startled from his own thoughts, Steve looked up with wide eyes. It was clear he hadn’t been listening.

“Everything was great, thank you.”

Bruce swallowed the pair of slights and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Yes, Phil. Everything was wonderful. You outdid yourself this time.”

“Of course he did. That’s what Agent does,” Tony Stark said as he walked into the room unannounced and sauntered over to the table, making a show of looking around for a chair. “Sorry I’m late.”

“I didn’t invite you,” Phil replied.

“That’s probably why I’m late. Well, that and someone blew up my lab today, so… dealer’s choice, really.”

Phil noticed that only Bruce and Steve reacted to that statement, whereas Clint and Nat were the pictures of innocence. He’d have to talk to them later.

“There is another chair in the living room, Tony. You can bring that one in,” Phil said as he got up to fetch a clean plate and silverware. Everyone watched silently as Tony brought the chair and sat down, seeming to smile defiantly towards everyone at once.

“I hear you drove another therapist away,” Natasha said, breaking the silence. “Did you sleep with her, too?”

“Yes. A lot,” he replied casually.

It was probably true, but Phil knew the truth of his statement was irrelevant; this was how Tony was going to get revenge for his lab. Natasha was very protective of Pepper and, in a lot of ways, was angrier about the breakup than Pepper was. Tony was trying to provoke her.

“And besides,” Tony continued. “It’s none of your business.”

“I can make it my business,” she replied.

“It seems you already have, but need I remind you? Pepper made her wishes very clear. She’s moved on, so should you.”

There had been a particularly hard edge to Tony’s voice that grabbed Phil’s attention, so he walked back to the table and cleared his throat once. He put the setting and a glass of seltzer in front of Tony and then casually took away the wine. He knew Tony was only a few months sober and hadn’t liked how he’d been watching the bottle since he’d walked in.

Silence hung awkwardly in the room, but after another moment, Natasha looked away and Steve gave Phil an almost imperceptible nod of approval. Phil’s point had been made; invited or not, black sheep or not, Tony was part of the family… and Phil wanted him to stay.

“So, Tony…” Bruce started. “You’ve been in the lab a lot lately. What are you working on?”

Bless him and his bravery. Phil knew he was risking Natasha’s wrath just by engaging Tony in conversation. Phil nodded him his thanks and reached for a second helping, trying to recreate the atmosphere they’d had just moments earlier.

Then, casually reaching under the table, he laid his other hand on Clint’s knee in what he hoped was a gesture of both reassurance and thanks. The tension Clint was holding was immediately noticeable and didn’t disappear at Phil’s touch. Phil thought back to his earlier, playful notion of having to work to make Clint smile and realized just how true that notion was.

Steve’s words echoed in his ears and Phil knew he couldn’t let things continue as they were. If Clint was this affected by Tony’s presence, then the time had come to give Tony his choice.

He was just thinking of pulling Tony aside when a slight movement seen from the corner of his eye – a mere twinkle of reflected light – caught Phil’s attention. He lazily cast a look towards the kitchen window and was badly startled to see Loki looking back in and smiling the malevolent smile Phil still saw in his nightmares. Loki sent him an air-kiss and was gone just as quickly as he’d appeared.

Half a beat later, Tony’s phone beeped and another second later, so did Phil’s. Tony frowned as he read the message and then looked to Clint.

“You have a brother?”

“What?” Clint stammered in surprised reply.

“Clint,” Phil said quietly, squeezing Clint’s knee and redirecting his attention.

“What happened?” he asked quietly.

Phil handed him his phone. “Your brother… was killed in the line of duty.”

***

Everyone left at Natasha’s wordless urging, though Steve insisted on staying just long enough to finish the dishes. Phil nodded his thanks to everyone and saw them out.

By Phil’s estimation, Clint took the shock remarkably well, considering he hadn’t known his brother was even alive, let alone had given up his life of crime and joined the FBI. It would seem a need for atonement ran in the Barton family. As did poor communication skills.

Phil found Clint at his workbench, repairing his arrows. Clint was not ready to talk and Phil knew he wouldn’t be at least until the next day, so he set a cup of coffee on the bench in silent acknowledgment that Clint was going to be up most of the night and left him to his work. He hoped it would be a comforting reminder that he would be nearby once Clint was ready to find him.

Phil didn’t say anything when Clint climbed into bed around four am; he just pulled him close and silently urged him to get some sleep.

***

Clint did not attend his brother’s funeral; he hated the bastard far too much to give him the satisfaction. He did, however, watch over the proceedings from a distance, keeping an eye out for Loki or any other sign of trouble.

Special Agent Barney Barton didn’t have any family, anyway, as far as anyone knew. The only reason Phil had been notified was because Jarvis was tracking mentions of the Avengers in classified databases; the AI knew of Clint’s brother and so, had forwarded the death notice. It had been a chance discovery but even still, Phil couldn’t shake his worries that Loki was involved in that ‘chance.’

Phil had told Clint about his sighting and Clint had taken it badly, explaining in gory detail his plans for revenge on the petty god. He made a point of patrolling Pottsville, looking for any sign of Loki’s return. But several, uneventful days later, Clint watched from the trees as his brother was buried with the respectful pomp of a law enforcement funeral.

Phil kept a respectful distance and watched as an anonymous bystander. He tried to imagine what was going through Clint’s mind as the coffin’s flag was ceremoniously folded and handed to Barney’s partner. Phil knew Clint had loved his brother dearly, once – when they were boys and living their dreams. But life had not been kind to the Barton boys and they had parted on the worst of terms.

Bullets to the gut had a way of souring relationships.

The mourners eventually shuffled away, but Phil stood quietly and waited. It would be another hour before Clint joined him.

“It was a nice ceremony,” Phil said to break Clint from his thoughts.

“Better than he deserved.”

“We don’t know what Barney’s been doing these last few years.”

“Does it matter?”

“It always matters, Clint.”

No one knew better than Phil how Clint struggled with the concept of redemption. He’d told Phil on more than one occasion that his past could never be erased; only used to drive him forward. He never lied or pretended that cocky prick of an assassin Phil had found and recruited for S.H.I.E.L.D. all those years ago wasn’t still inside and didn’t occasionally beg to be let out. Clint didn’t believe redemption was possible for himself and so, could not believe it was possible for anyone else.

But Phil did. It was why he built the team in the first place.

“I’m sorry he didn’t get the chance to make amends with you, Clint, but try to remember that in the end, he joined the good fight, same as you did. I believe that matters.”

Clint snorted in reply. “As you said, we don’t know _what_ he’s been doing these last few years. But if I know Barney, whatever it was, it wasn’t ‘joining the good fight.’ Guys like him don’t turn over new leaves.”

“You don’t know that, Clint.”

“And you don’t know different, Phil. It’s sweet that you believe in people. I swear to God its one of the things I love most about you, but some people don’t deserve that belief. Some people are just…”

“Just what?” Phil pressed when Clint didn’t continue.

“Whatever. Just… let’s get out of here, alright?”

Phil nodded and walked with him back towards the car. He knew Clint was getting closer, but still wasn’t ready to talk. Too many old wounds had been reopened and with Barney dying like he had, Phil knew they might never get a chance to heal. He suspected Clint knew it, too, which was why he was so reluctant to begin.

As they pulled away to head back to Pottsville, Phil couldn’t help but think back to that angry young man Clint had been when they’d first met. It had been clear at the time that Barney had done a real number on him, not just physically, but mentally as well. It had taken Phil the better part of six years to get Clint to trust him. Phil hadn’t come from an abusive home and didn’t have that shared experience to help him bond. What he’d had to offer instead was unshakeable commitment. He’d silently stood by Clint through everything – good and bad – until Clint had finally accepted him.

Phil focused on that memory as he drove away. It made him smile even as Clint turned more inward and slowly fell asleep beside him. He had helped Clint fight Barney’s shadow then and he would help him fight his ghost now.

***

And he wouldn’t do it alone.

While he and Clint were in DC, the others had used their various resources to collect information which Jarvis compiled for presentation.

“Special Agent Barney Barton. Born: Flint, Michigan, June 1, 1971 to William and Rosemary Barton, both deceased. No known living relatives. Attended the Lawrenceville School and the University of Pennsylvania before joining the Army in 1990.”

Clint raised his eyebrows at the information. “Who the hell are William and Rosemary?”

“Unknown, sir. I was unable to locate any other information about them except for birth, marriage, and death certificates. All were likely forged.”

“So… Barney fed the FBI a totally bullshit background and they bought it? I mean, he even made himself younger, the son of a bitch.”

“Of course they bought it. They’re the FBI. They don’t exactly hire rocket scientists, do they?” Tony chimed in from the corner, where he’d been pretending not to listen.

“I’m guessing they refused your services as a consultant, Stark?”

Tony frowned in Steve’s direction. “Like I’d even make the offer.”

“Please continue, Jarvis,” Phil called out.

“Of course, sir. Agent Barton was rated an expert marksmen and served on several Special Operations teams before leaving the service for the FBI, where he earned distinction first as a sniper and then as a deep cover operative.”

“Deep cover? Do you have access to the case files?”

“Yes, Ms. Romanov. I’ll send them to your terminals, but in summary, it would appear that Agent Barton was quite skilled at navigating the criminal underworld.”

“Yeah… that sounds like Barney,” Clint said, nodding and looking to Phil. “The best people to talk to criminals are other criminals.”

“That’s why S.H.I.E.L.D. hired you, isn’t it?” Tony asked smiling even as an angry red flush started to rise up Clint’s neck. Clint and Steve’s eyes both flicked to Phil.

“Jarvis?” he asked.

“Continuing, sir. He had several major drug and weapon busts to his credit and received two commendations for exceptional service to the Bureau.”

“What was he working on when he was killed?” Natasha asked, coming over to Clint’s terminal. Phil was not surprised that ‘deep cover’ was holding her attention.

“Records unavailable.”

“I’m sorry?” Tony stammered out in surprise. “I’m pretty sure I made you better than an FBI firewall.”

“I am not blocked from accessing the records, sir. There are simply no records available for his current assignment.”

“How can that be? The FBI keeps records of everything,” Phil said from experience. He knew the FBI best hid its classified information by creating mounds of it; too much information to sort through meant it was unlikely anyone ever would.

“It is a fairly new initiative at the Bureau, sir. Highly prioritized operations are recorded on paper files rather than digital ones. It is meant as a security measure against cyber threats.”

“Huh,” was all Tony managed to say in response.

“So that’s all it takes to confuse the great Tony Stark? A notepad and pencil?”

“I recognize some of the guns he tracked,” Nat announced, ignoring Clint’s attempt to escalate tensions. “I pulled one off a guy in Odessa and it spooked Fury.”

Jarvis projected an image of the gun above their heads.

“Why would it concern him?” Steve asked, squinting at the unique design.

“Because it’s one of my Dad’s,” Tony answered. Tony walked into the projection and studied it, eventually lifting his hands and scattering the image into a schematic of parts.

“Your father’s? How old is it?” Clint asked.

“It’s brand new. This is modified from the original design.”

“But why?” Clint continued. “What’s the point of rebuilding ancient tech?”

“Steve is ancient tech,” Bruce offered quietly. His words stilled the room as everyone suddenly realized what was potentially at stake if Howard’s designs were in the wind.

“We need to find out what Barney was investigating, Phil,” Clint said with a serious look Phil hadn’t seen in months. Phil nodded in reply.

“Jarvis,” he called out. “Do you know where The FBI would keep Barney’s files?”

“No, sir. I do not.”

“Well, if Fury recognized that gun, I’m sure he started an investigation,” Nat said in response.

“Alright,” Phil said, nodding. “I’ll place a call to him. The rest of you, reach out to your contacts. Let’s see if we can trace Barney’s movements in the last few months.”

***

Phil sat quietly outside of Fury’s office and tried to look casual, but he couldn’t help feel anything but the weight of the scarlet letter on his chest – the red “V” visitor badge he was sporting. No agent had spoken to him or even looked at him since he’d entered the building. Even Sitwell had kept walking.

Phil didn’t have any regrets about leaving S.H.I.E.L.D., though. He’d loved his job, but he loved Clint more. Walking away had been an easy decision.

“Coulson! Get in here,” Fury called out to him.

“Good afternoon, Director,” Phil said as he approached Fury’s enormous desk. Fury didn’t look up or even acknowledge Phil’s presence; he simply continued staring at a tablet. Phil waited him out. He’d played this role many times before and it felt very familiar.

“So you want a favor. After how you left,” Fury said eventually.

Phil smiled calmly in response. He didn’t want to have the conversation about leaving S.H.I.E.L.D. if he could avoid it. “If you want to see it that way, Director. I see it more as a request to share information.”

“ _Share_ information. Oh, so you have some information for us?”

“Not as of yet, Director. But as we…”

“So, you have nothing to offer in exchange for what you’d like from me, but somehow that’s not looking for a favor?”

Phil didn’t reply immediately, he simply smiled and took a measure of control back over the conversation. It was clear Fury wanted to talk about him leaving and they weren’t going to get anywhere until that was done.

“I had to leave, sir,” he said after a moment, purposely using the familiar ‘sir.’

“But like that? I was still on the table and you left Hill high and dry.”

“She is an incredibly capable person.”

“Who didn’t need to put those fires out alone. You could have had our backs, Coulson, like we’d had yours.”

“Clint needed me more, sir.”

Fury sat back and watched him for another moment before letting out a breath. His face softened just a touch, just enough for Phil to notice.

“What did I teach you about forming attachments?”

“No lesson I wanted to learn, sir.”

“Apparently.”

Fury looked down and started tapping at his tablet again. “How is he?” he asked without looking up.

“He’s well, sir. Thank you for asking.”

“And this business with his brother?”

“It’s a concern for all of us, sir. That’s why I’m here.”

“Despite our long history, Coulson, S.H.I.E.L.D. is not in the habit of sharing information with civilians. You know that.”

“I do, sir. Except for in those times when civilians are in a position to assist.”

“And you believe you are in such a position.”

“I believe we will be.”

Fury continued studying him and Phil waited him out. He knew better than anyone the difficult position Phil had placed him in. Sharing information was against the S.H.I.E.L.D. ethos and the few times it had been done had been for tactical reasons. Fury had to be weighing more than just their friendship.

“One favor, Phil. _One_. Are you sure this is the one you want?”

“Yes, sir,” Phil replied quickly. He had to bring Clint his closure.

Fury nodded once in reply. “Sitwell! Get in here.”

Sitwell appeared in the doorway almost instantly, looking for all of the world as if he’d been casually walking past instead awaiting orders like they all knew he had been.

“Sir?”

“Get this man his files.”

***

Barney had been betrayed.

A group known as The Collective had been recreating Howard Stark’s old tech with startling accuracy and selling it globally. Pulse weapons in the Middle East, portable reactors in the Caucuses, stealth equipment in China… the list went on. Barney had made several attempts to infiltrate the group without success, making them one of the more concerning groups on the FBI’s radar.

At first, the FBI had suspected Tony of selling the designs or, at least, suspected a leak in his lab, but Barney had learned differently. Thousands of documents from the Howard Stark archive of the FBI’s Central Files had quietly gone missing and Barney suspected a dirty agent was involved.

The idea and ensuing investigation hadn’t earned him any friends.

Dangerous assignments had become deadly ones as field level support all but disappeared. Barney soon found himself working almost completely alone and when Nat stumbled upon the Collective’s work in Odessa, it had proved the beginning of the end. Fury had been clued in and confiscated not only Barney’s files, but the entire archive as well, without giving Barney or anyone else in the US government an opportunity to argue.

That Barney was killed just a handful of weeks later had not been coincidence as far as Phil or any of the Avengers were concerned. Several days after Phil had returned with all the data they could handle, the team was still reading purposely, trying to spot the patterns and track the mole.

“These read like a Bond novel,” Bruce said finally, breaking the silence. “I mean, this is some intense stuff. Meeting informants in exotic locations, rescuing hostages, bringing down arms traders…”

“ _Illegal_ arms traders. Important distinction,” Tony added from his corner of the room.

Clint’s look had soured at Bruce’s comment and Phil could read the conflict all over his face. The Barney he had known - the selfish bastard who had shot him and left him to die in a field - had made Clint who he was. That early betrayal still drove Clint, for better or worse. But this other Barney - the selfless hero who saved lives and protected the innocent - was a complete stranger. It was clear to Phil that Clint did not know how to handle any of the things he was reading.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Nat replied, flicking her eyes to Phil in a search for solidarity. She knew Clint’s feelings on his brother. “Most of his informants ended up dead. That’s not something you’d have let happen, Clint.”

Bruce didn’t know about Barney, though, and tried to help in the least welcome way.

“Maybe not, but I think he really was a hero. He brought down some seriously bad guys and saved an awful lot of lives in the process. You can’t help but be proud of a guy like that. He was … was … something…” he said, trailing off as he caught a look from Nat that quieted him even as it obviously confused the hell out of him. “Or… I mean, I’m still pretty new to this kind of stuff… I might not be reading it in quite the right way.”

“It’s alright, guys” Clint answered quietly. “This Barney… I don’t even know who this guy is. I’m finding it real hard to believe this whole thing isn’t bullshit.”

“Why is that?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know, it’s just… Barney always took the easy way out, you know? He wasn’t the type to stand up for anyone. He was the type to… to… to hold other people down. Use them to his advantage.”

“Maybe something happened to change him,” Steve offered.

“Maybe,” Clint answered with a shrug. “But I just don’t buy it. I can’t find any way to connect the Barney in these files to the guy I actually knew. I mean, if you go through my or Nat’s files and you look at us before S.H.I.E.L.D., we weren’t the same people we are now, but… we still kind of were, you know? This Barney is just a totally different person. There’s nothing of my brother here.”

“How old were you, again?” Tony asked, finally looking up from his files.

“Sixteen.”

Tony nodded and looked back down at his files. Clint watched him for a moment; clearly waiting for a snipe or joke at Clint’s expense, but it never came. After another moment, he and everyone else turned back to read as well.

Except for Phil.

Something had just happened, though he couldn’t put his finger on what. Something small and subtle and terribly important had just passed between Tony and Clint. Phil’s gut was telling him to pay attention and he made a mental note to follow up.

But rest of the day passed quietly and by evening, they’d called it a night. The team would reconvene in the morning and keep digging with fresher eyes.

***

There was no moon that night and the stars shone brilliantly. Phil took Clint’s hand on their quiet stroll home. It wasn’t that Clint was a ‘hand-holding’ kind of guy, per se, but the closeness and the trust implied was something Clint just really seemed to need that night and Phil was more than happy to oblige.

The cold wind played at their coats and even though Clint liked to pretend he was impervious to things like a night wind, he soon pressed just a little closer against Phil’s shoulder. Phil squeezed his hand in response and tugged him just a little bit closer still. By the time they stepped onto their porch, Clint was relaxed and smiling again, which caused the same effect in Phil.

Phil carefully planned every step of their evening to make sure Barney stayed back in the lab and would not haunt Clint in his sleep. Long after Clint had shut his eyes and drifted away, Phil watched over him. Nothing in his life had ever made him feel as happy and contented as moments like these and he took an extra minute to just soak it in, forming a memory he could hold dearly.

But as pleasant as it was, Phil knew he had one more task to complete that night before he’d allow himself any rest. Laying a light kiss on Clint’s shoulder, he rolled silently from bed, climbed back into his clothes, and slipped out the back towards Clint’s workshop.

***

There was no advanced tech in Clint’s workshop, just hand tools, wire, and explosives. Phil knew Clint didn’t understand just how carefully and thoughtfully Tony had designed it for him. To Clint, it was just an inexplicably comforting, dark hole made from rough cut wood and strung with bare wires and bulbs. Clint assumed Tony had cheaped out on building his space to send a message and, in a way, Phil knew that was true; it was just a different message than the one Clint was reading.

Without a word, Tony had just known it was the kind of space Clint needed, both to let him work and to keep that all important chip on his shoulder – the one that drove him. The salvaged peg-board walls let him arrange and rearrange his tools endlessly whether for a purpose or just to keep his fingers busy. There was a loose floor board in just the right spot for hiding things and the acoustics were such that Clint could hear Phil’s music when he wanted to or shut it out when he didn’t. It was a space without pretense and it allowed Clint to feel safe and in control.

Which was why Phil never told Clint of all the times Tony had snuck in there to feel those things as well.

“Have you been drinking?” Phil asked as he walked into the dark space and leaned against the door frame.

“No,” Tony answered after a moment.

“Do you want to be?” Phil asked, being very careful with his tone to make it clear the question was one of concern, not an invitation.

“Always,” Tony answered with a defensive smile. “How did you know I was here?

“Does it matter?”

Tony shook his head. “Not really.”

With a nod, Phil moved over and joined Tony on his bench. “It couldn’t have been easy hearing the FBI was investigating you.”

Tony shrugged. “Legal took care of it.”

“Do you mean Pepper took care of it?”

“It was so far below Pepper I doubt she even knows about it.” They both knew that wasn’t true. Pepper knew everything that went on in her company.

“Have you spoken with her?”

“We’re not girlfriends, Agent, and you’re not my therapist. You don’t have the legs for it.”

“Of course I do,” Phil answered dryly, earning him a surprised a laugh from Tony.

“Better not let Katniss hear you say that.”

“Katniss and I are just fine. It’s you and me I’m worried about.” Phil waited until Tony looked up at him. “What’s going on, Tony? What don’t I know?”

“Bad question, Agent. The things you don’t know could fill books. _Lots_ of books.”

“Then sum it up for me. Something Clint said resonated with you today, something about Barney. You didn’t say anything to the group, so I’m guessing it’s personal.”

“You understand how ‘personal’ things work, right Agent? As in, they’re not meant for sharing?”

“And yet, you snuck in here and tripped the motion sensor _you_ designed when you could have gone literally anywhere else in the world instead if you’d wanted to be left alone. I think you want to talk, Tony. So, talk to me. What happened?”

“Do you know how my parents died?” he asked after a moment of trying to find the words.

“A car accident.”

“Yeah, just like Barney.”

“But we don’t think Barney’s accident was really an accident.”

“As I said. Just like Barney,” Tony answered quietly.

“You think your parents were murdered?” The idea had long been suspected at S.H.I.E.L.D., he just didn’t know Tony had been aware.

“I’m just saying that ‘car accident’ seems to be an awfully common way to get rid of assholes,” Tony answered, but then caught himself. “No. Not Mom. Sorry. She wasn’t…”

“You’re comparing your Dad to Barney?” Phil interrupted, sparing him the guilt as Phil suddenly realized ghosts were haunting more than just Clint that night.

Some small thing seemed to break inside Tony at the question. Phil watched it manifest through Tony’s closed eyes and heavily slumped shoulders, like a string he’d been holding taught inside had suddenly released.

“The gun from Odessa is not a gun and it’s only sort of my Dad’s. It’s based on his design, but I modified it last year.”

“What is it, then?”

“It’s an injection delivery system for super soldier serum.”

“Tony…” Phil started before the shock took the rest of his words away.

“I needed it for Pepper,” Tony quickly justified. “It was the only way to make her strong enough to fight Extremis.”

“Tony, you have super soldier serum?” Phil pressed, trying very hard to moderate his tone and keep it even. As unstable as he was, the very idea that Tony had the serum – regardless of its purpose – was just short of horrifying.

“ _Had_. I used it on Pepper and don’t worry, Agent, I didn’t write anything down. There are no files to be stolen or hacked.”

“That’s… only one of many things I’m worried about, Tony.”

“Pepper’s fine. She took it really well and she’s stable. But given the timing, I was terrified the FBI would find out. Maybe someone did, but … No one can know about this, Agent, do you understand? No one. Her life will be danger. People will come for her, use her, use me… No one can know.”

“Tony…” Phil continued, his words still stubbornly failing him. “Are you saying you figured out Erskine’s formula?”

“It’s not his formula, it’s mine, and…” Tony looked down at his feet and suddenly seemed uncomfortably young in Phil’s presence. “I’ve known how to make it since I was fifteen. But I need you to understand why, Agent.”

Tony pulled a file from his bag and handed it to an even more stunned Phil. It was an FBI file, heavily stamped and dated from the seventies, clearly pulled from the Stark files Fury had sent. It opened to a photo of Tony’s teenage self, lying in a pool of his own blood.

“Cause Dad sure didn’t.”

“What happened, Tony?”

Tony slouched and fidgeted, keeping his eyes firmly rooted on his shoes. He’d clearly resigned himself to having a conversation he really didn’t want to have.

“They took me from school,” Tony explained. “They wanted Dad to help them make the serum, but Dad told them to go fuck themselves. I ended up making it for them instead.”

He shrugged like he was hoping that would suffice, but the calm quiet look from Phil assured him it wouldn’t. Tony stood up and plucked an arrow off of the workbench. He twirled it in his hand a few times, testing its weight, its weakness… giving himself a weapon before bringing up the things he didn’t want to talk about.

“You ever been kidnapped, Agent?” he asked. “Were you actually a kid, though?” he clarified after Phil nodded.

“No.”

“Mmm,” Tony responded, twirling the arrow a bit more confidently, getting comfortable with it. “It’s a totally different thing. When you’re an adult, you kind of know how to handle yourself, but when you’re a kid…” he trailed off.

“How old were you?” Phil asked when it was clear Tony wasn’t going to finish the thought.

“Fifteen.”

“What happened, Tony?”

Tony shrugged again and replaced the arrow, picking up a much larger one with an explosive tip. He twirled it just as carelessly as the inert one, more so even.

“Nothing much to tell, Agent. My hosts put me up for a couple of months. It was a real home away from home - a nice storage container with no view and corner to piss in,” he continued, smiling to cover the painful memories.

“A couple of months? Your father didn’t negotiate with them?”

“Nah, that wasn’t Dad’s way. They sent him a couple of videos and they always got the same response,” he continued. “So they decided to kill me and I decided to talk. A lot. I convinced them I could make the serum and since they had nothing to lose… they gave me a shot. Even gave me a bucket to piss in,” he added with a deflecting smile. “They were excellent motivators.”

“Especially for a kid,” Phil said softly.

Tony shrugged. “All part of growing up Stark. Besides, they had bits and pieces of Erskine’s formula they’d pulled from sources, so all I did was make all the pieces work. When S.H.I.E.L.D. finally raided the place, it was… quite the scene.” Tony lifted his shirt and showed Phil a series of old bullet scars in his side. “I always figured they had their hands too full to distinguish between the teenage hostage and the thick necked, crazy murderers attacking them. I didn’t take it too personally, but then I read this file…”

“I’m sure it was an accident, Tony,” Phil said even as he struggled to believe that lie himself. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were too well trained to shoot a hostage like that. Tony obviously thought the same and sent him an incredulous look.

“No accident, Agent. I was deemed a threat to national security and was to be eliminated with the rest of the soldiers. And best of all? Dad was the one who ordered it. I mean, I always knew he was pissed I survived because he made that _very_ clear when we got home. I swear to you, Agent, that man has been dead over twenty years and when I made the formula for Pepper, I still expected to hear him getting the belt.”

“He beat you?”

“According to that file, he did a hell of a lot more than that. When I finally went back to school, I had a security guy with me who I always assumed was hired by the school to protect itself from liability. Turns out, he was from S.H.I.E.L.D., sent to protect me _from_ Dad. How fucked up is that? Dad never wanted S.H.I.E.L.D. to know what I was.”

“What you were?” Phil asked quietly.

Tony flicked his eyes to him, embarrassed. “What I could do, whatever. He knew I was no Erskine and figured I’d be the next Red Skull or something. Wanted to do the world a favor, but S.H.I.E.L.D. had other plans for me. You should read his testimony in here about what a danger to society I am.”

“I’m sorry this happened to you, Tony.”

“Are you? I know what you think of me, Agent. All of you,” he said directly. “I know you’re always wondering when I’m going to cross the line.”

“I know who you are and who you’re not, if that’s what you’re asking me, Tony.”

“Does everyone?”

It was a question Phil wanted to answer, but knew he couldn’t; not believably. Tony and Clint were so alike sometimes, it was frightening. They’d both had their childhoods ripped from them, betrayed by the very people who were supposed to protect them. In so many ways it explained why they were most terrified of the people who came closest to them. And why Phil felt ever compelled to protect them. He let out a deep breath and leaned forward, matching Tony’s posture.

“You’ve known how to make super soldiers since you were fifteen. You could have made billions. But even as a drunk, spoiled arms dealer, you did nothing with that knowledge. Why not?”

Tony shrugged in a ‘point taken’ gesture.

“I want to hear you say it out loud,” Phil pressed, forcing Tony to look at him.

“Because there are some lines you don’t cross.”

“And because you know that, Tony, I know who you are. Nothing else matters.”

Tony said nothing at first, then pushed back and ran his hands across his tired face - definitely not letting Phil see what that answer had meant to him. “Alright, alright. We’re not girlfriends, Agent, and this isn’t a sob story. The point is that I know how to make the serum and I bet someone else now does, as well. There’s no other reason to have that gun.”

“And yet you don’t want the others to know what it is,” he said, letting Tony change the subject only so far.

“They can’t know, Agent. I won’t risk Pepper.”

“Pepper will be fine. She’s tougher and smarter than many field agents and let’s be honest; between you and the Avengers, no one will ever lay a hand on her. At least and go unpunished…” Phil held his gaze until Tony nodded, acknowledging the truth of his statement. “They’re not your father, Tony. They understand survival. They’ll stand with you.”

“You’re awfully sure of that.”

“Yes I am. I know who they are, too. Now it’s your turn to let them in.”

“What do you want me to do, Agent?”

“I want you to tell them, Tony. Give them your trust and let them give you theirs in return.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Do you trust me, Tony?”

Tony looked up carefully and nodded. So help him, but in that gesture Phil could see that scared teenage boy and silently cursed the cruelty of Howard Stark.

“Then trust them, too. Let them see who you are.”

***

Phil stood back and watched patiently as Tony told the others how he’d recognized the ‘gun.’ They were quiet and still as they listened, not even getting up for refills after their coffee mugs were drained – it was as sure a sign as any that Tony had their full attention.

Telling the story once already seemed to give Tony a bit more confidence in the retelling. A few new details emerged, all of which made Phil very glad that Howard Stark was already dead. That he had left his child to suffer in such a way was not something Phil could abide and, judging by the looks on their faces, it wasn’t something the rest of the team could abide either.

“So, bottom line, I think someone is making super soldiers or at least trying to,” Tony finished, nervously refusing to make eye contact with anyone. “And I think we need to start by looking at my lab. We find out how they got the injector and then maybe track them back to wherever they are.”

“Sure, we can do that,” Steve said cautiously when no one else seemed ready to speak. “But son, that’s hardly the bottom line.”

Tony’s eyes flicked to Phil’s accusingly, like he’d known all along it would be a bad idea to tell them. “Then what is, Steve?”

“That you finally trust us enough to ask for help. That’s been a long time coming.” He stood up and offered Tony his hand, which Tony took with an embarrassed smirk that told Phil just how dearly Steve’s acceptance meant to him.

“So how do you want to play it, Stark? How do we track the leak?” Nat asked in an all business tone - her version of offering acceptance. Tony seemed to recognize it for what it was and visibly relaxed.

“We were in Miami when I put it together. I’m not saying we all need to head down there, but…”

“I’ve never been to Miami,” Steve interrupted. “I’ve always wanted to see it. What about you, Miss Romanov? Up for a trip?”

“Miami’s nice. I always have a good time there. What about you?” she replied, pointedly looking to Barton.

Clint was obviously still thinking about the story and just how willing he was to bury Tony’s hatchet. Everyone knew he wasn’t one to just forgive and forget, especially out of pity. Trust with Clint was dearly earned.

“Convince me,” Clint answered directly to Tony.

“Of what?” he asked in return.

“Convince me that the next time you’re alone in a room with Banner, you won’t kill him trying to save him from something he doesn’t need or want to be saved from. Convince me we can turn our backs on you.”

Tony looked down and nodded several times, nervously deciding what to say or perhaps accepting that he’d earned the distrust. He surprised Phil, though, by turning to Nat first.

“I didn’t sleep with my therapist. Any of them. The only person I want to talk to is Pepper and she won’t return my calls.”

“Stark, that’s not going to be enough to…”

“Everything I do is for her because nothing else in this world matters to me. I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think of me, Barton. If you like me or don’t, trust me or don’t… I honestly don’t care. But her? _She_ matters. And right now, she doesn’t trust me - she’s made it clear she _can’t_ trust me – and I can’t live with that. That’s a problem I need to fix and that starts with you guys.”

Slowly circling the table and picking up the pieces of his files, Tony stopped when he stood in front of Bruce.

“I’m sorry for what I did, or… started to do, anyway. I’m glad you’re not dead.”

“Gee, thanks,” Bruce said but with an easy smile that told the room he’d forgiven Tony long before. Still, Phil noticed Bruce’s eyes flash green as the smile hardened just a bit. “Don’t do it again, though, ok?”

Tony must have noticed it, too, because he straightened and nodded as he reached to shake hands. There was nothing glib in it, just understanding.

Tony turned back to Clint. “And I’m sorry I called you Legolas. And Katniss. And Geena Davis.” He slowly started walking towards Clint, his smile broadening inverse to Clint’s frown deepening. Leaning down, he got almost nose to nose, close enough to speak so only Clint could hear.

Phil desperately wanted to hear what he was saying, but contented himself in watching Clint’s reaction. Clint’s eyes narrowed as he listened with skepticism but then suddenly widened just enough to suggest that Tony had surprised him. There was something almost electric in the look, like Clint’s inner spark had been relit. Phil couldn’t help but smile; it was energizing.

Clint slowly nodded with a tentative acceptance. “Miami,” he said simply.

“Miami,” Tony reiterated with a smile. “And what about you, Banner? Road trip?”

“Yeah, sure. What could possibly go wrong?”

Laughing, Tony looked at Phil. “For the record, Agent. Banner is the one who just jinxed us.”

“Noted,” Phil replied as that same psychosomatic twinge from earlier spread across his chest.

He’d just _had_ to jinx them, hadn’t he?

***

There was no leak in the lab, just a dirty FBI agent who’d served a warrant and helped himself to some of Tony’s tech before Legal had shown him the door. That dirty agent had led the team to another and then another. By week’s end, Fury had taken over the FBI’s investigation and arrested eighteen more. None admitted killing Barney, but one offered the Collective’s location.

It was a start.

They approached the warehouse carefully, Clint and Nat moving on ahead of the others to observe and report.

“I have eyes inside,” Clint called out over the comm. “Maybe a dozen or so guards on the main floor but all the action seems to be in the back. I’m seeing two entrances to a separate section.”

“Natasha? What about you?” Phil asked.

“I’ve cleared the roof. I’ll see if I can find a way into that area.”

Even knowing she was coming, Clint found it hard to spot her. She moved like a shadow, dropping gracefully from a crossbeam onto a bundle of pipes. She ran noiselessly along the path they made, the guards below never even noticing.

“Just say when, Nat,” Clint said over the comm.

“When,” she replied, dropping to the warehouse floor. They fired together like well synchronized machines. Between his arrows and her silenced pistol, the dozen guards were dropped without registering more noise than could be dismissed as normal movement. She moved towards the first entrance as Clint dropped to join her and they slipped inside.

The area was thickly stacked with rows of shrink wrapped pallets. They seemed to strategically block view of the rest of the room, so Clint climbed up, seeking anonymity in the rafters while Nat weaved her way in and around the rows. He got a clean line of sight and immediately relaxed.

“Uhh…. guys?” he asked over the comms.

“What is it, Barton?” Steve replied.

“It’s just a couple of kids with computers. How do you want to play this?”

“Well, don’t shoot them, Barton,” Nat answered for him.

“Thanks, Nat. Don’t seduce them.”

“Guys,” Bruce interrupted. “Kids with computers can be dangerous.”

Clint couldn’t help but laugh. “What are they going to do, throw a mouse at me?”

“Who uses a mouse?” Tony asked as Clint dropped from his rafter and onto a pallet. He marched towards the three young men as Nat came around to meet him.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” she purred.

Their surprised faces snapped to her in unison. One of them spun to see Clint behind them and immediately tapped out a fast sequence on his key pad. The lights shut off in response and an alarm claxon wailed.

“Your guards are…” Clint started to tell them as a series of tiny, spherical drones burst from the pallets and flew towards them, firing lasers. “… fucking robots! Holy shit!”

He and Nat dove for cover trying to avoid the swarm.

“I told you!” Bruce called out over the comm.

“Sorry, Doc!” Clint called back as he stood up to fire from behind a pallet. He fired rapidly into the blur of speeding drones, hitting several but not seeming to make even a dent in their numbers. Natasha seemed to have the same effect. She fired rapidly into the swarm, but Clint could see it divide and fly back to flank her.

He had no more time to react than she did and the flanking spheres peppered her with laser fire. Clint watched her dive from one pallet to another, weaving quickly between them and leaving a trail of blood behind her.

“Nat’s hit!” he shouted through the comm.

“I’m fine!” she called back. “Coulson they’re heading to the rear exit.”

“Cap and I will take them,” Phil responded calmly even as a ground rumbling roar filled the space. “Tony and Bruce are inbound to you.”

“Good, because I only packed a couple of nets,” Clint said as he climbed quickly back up into the rafters. He got a line on Nat and fired three cargo-net arrows at once. The swarm nearest her was pulled down quickly and he turned to face the rest of the swarm, now filling the warehouse.

Tony whizzed past him, laying repulsor fire into a handful of pallets where drones were still emerging. “These are Dad’s, too. Can you cover me while I get to the terminals? I’ll try to shut them down.”

Clint was sure no one heard his reply because the Hulk came bursting through the warehouse wall at that moment. He charged into the swarm and clapped his hands together with an ear shattering crack, smashing dozens of drones to dust in an instant.

“Yeah, I think we can cover you,” Clint called out again. He launched another series of arrows and even whooped as Nat began throwing her Widow’s Bites around and electrifying small groups in the swarm. This might be fun. “How you doing, Phil?”

***

Steve had taken off running and Phil followed behind with the SUV. Three young computer geeks were not going to cause Captain America any trouble; Phil was just going to run cleanup. Indeed, the young men were already on the ground by the time he arrived.

“They may be armed, sir,” Phil said as he got out of the SUV.

“We already talked about that, didn’t we son?”

The man with a black eye nodded carefully and rested his head back on the ground. Grimacing with embarrassment, Steve looked up at Phil.

“They offered me something called ‘bitcoins,’ if you believe it. As if pocket change was going to buy off Captain America.”

Phil smiled and started to secure the men in the SUV. “Kids these days, right sir?”

“ _How you doing, Phil?”_ Clint asked over the comm.

“Just cleaning up now. Steve is headed your way.”

The thick, wet thudding sound of an arrow hitting its mark pulled Phil’s attention. He spun to see Steve fall heavily to the ground, an arrow sticking through his back. Blood bubbling from his lips, Steve tried and failed to call out.

Phil ran to him in a dead sprint, even leaving the last man unsecured by the SUV. “Steve’s hit! There’s an archer in play.”

“ _What?!”_ Clint called back.

“Steve! Can you hear me?” Phil begged, rolling Steve over and cradling him, the arrow in his back preventing him from lying flat.

“ _Phil! Talk to me! What’s going on?”_ Clint demanded over the comm.

“I’ve got a pulse, but we’re exposed here. I’ve got to move him.” Getting his arms under Steve’s, Phil dragged him quickly towards the SUV. The last member of the Collective had taken off to hide behind a fork lift. Phil noted it but could care less. They’d find him sooner or later; Steve mattered more.

Tony was in front of them in a second, just in time to block a volley of arrows Phil hadn’t seen coming.

“Get him out of here!” Tony shouted and Phil complied. He slung Steve up into a fireman’s carry and sprinted for cover behind a storage container. Another arrow struck sickeningly into the back of Steve’s neck as he did, cutting straight through the thick muscle and lodging parallel to his shoulders. Between it and the other arrow jutting from his back, Phil had no way to prop Steve without causing him more damage.

“I need help here!”

“ _Go, Clint!”_ Nat responded over the comm. “ _We’ll finish here.”_

Tony laid a barrage of covering fire and flew back to Phil just as Clint arrived.

“Oh God, Steve…” Clint said, kneeling and nocking an arrow. “Is he…?”

“He’s still got a pulse, but we have to get him out of here.”

Tony peered around the side of the container and scanned the horizon. “Where’s the archer?”

“From the angle of the shot, eleven o’clock.”

Phil leaned Steve forward to adjust his slumping weight and as he did, another arrow ricocheted off of Tony’s helmet and lodged into the container where Steve had just been. Before Phil could react, Clint was sprinting across the open space towards the archer.

“Shit, Barton! What are you doing?!” Tony shouted in surprise before turning back to Phil. “I’ll get him.”

Firing repulsors, Tony flew after him.

***

The son of a bitch was alive. The only other person who could make a shot like that was the man who’d taught him how to do it: Barney.

Clint sprinted across the open lot with a pair of arrows nocked and ready. He was going to kill that son of a bitch once and for all and make sure he stayed dead. He was still scanning the horizon when Tony grabbed the back of his shirt and lifted him into the air. The new vantage gave him a cleaner line and he fired a series of arrows into Barney’s most likely perch.

A pair of arrows was fired back in quick succession but unlike Clint’s, these hit their mark. Both struck Tony in the armpit, lodging between plate seams and emitting a loud crackle of electricity. The current traveled down through Tony’s armor and electrocuted Clint, wracking his whole body with the pain of seizing limbs.

Tony was able to release him and Clint crashed heavily to the ground. Clint watched as momentum carried Tony further on in a plummeting arc and sent him crashing to the ground. He skidded to a stop several hundred feet away, but Clint could barely get enough control of his still seizing limbs to look in his direction, let alone move to cover him.

“Stark?” he strangled out through his forcibly clenched teeth.

“Suit’s fried. I can’t get it my reactor to reconnect,” came the reply.

Tony was exposed and Clint could do nothing but watch helplessly as Barney emerged from the brush line with drawn bow. Barney lodged another pair of arrows into Stark’s suit and watched it seize. Satisfied, he lifted his eyes to Phil and Steve’s location and sprinted towards them.

Trying to will control back over his limbs, Clint clumsily released the pistol from his leg holster. He tried to raise it, but Barney caught the movement and put an arrow through his thigh.

“Stay down, you little shit,” he shouted across at him.

The pain was nothing new to Clint, though, and there was no way in Hell he’d let the son of a bitch get to Phil. He lifted the pistol, fired, and kept firing unsuccessfully until his clip was drained. He hadn’t gotten enough control over his limbs to hit the bastard, but he’d driven him back towards cover. It was something, at least.

Forcing himself up, Clint replaced the clip and stumbled forward, firing towards Barney. It forced Barney behind another shipping container and gave Clint a chance to reach Tony. Getting his arms under his, Clint dragged the dead weight over and between piles of broken pallets.

“Who the hell is this guy?” Tony asked as they went.

“My brother.”

“Your brother?! I don’t… I don’t know what to say to that.”

Clint stood and fired another arrow in Barney’s direction just as his head had poked around for a view.

“Can you do anything in there, Stark?”

“I have a little power still left in the suit itself. I can probably do one thing, like get out or fire, but not both.”

“Alright, I’ll…” Clint started to say when an arrow flew through the slats of the pallets and then through Clint’s forearm, pinning him to the wooden frame of another. “Mother fucker!” he couldn’t help but shout in response.

Barney used the moment and took off, sprinting to the forklift and the young man hiding there. Clint could see them talking and gesturing towards both the SUV and towards Phil. They were planning the rescue and Clint had a sinking suspicion Barney was going to kill Phil in the process.

Over Clint’s dead body.

When Barney began to move, Clint grabbed the pistol and, shooting wrong handed, forced him back behind some industrial barrels. Barney stood and fired back, though, and his arrow ricocheted off Tony’s suit and landed firmly into Clint’s already pinned arm.

“I’m getting really tired of that!” Tony shouted uselessly across the way. “What’s he doing, Clint? I can’t see.”

Damned if Clint could see anything through the blinding pain, but he could hear the footfalls as Barney resumed his sprint towards Phil.

“Phil! You’ve got incoming. Nat, get to him,” He pleaded through the comm.

But Nat wasn’t the one to respond, at least not alone. With the explosive force of a bomb, the Hulk ripped his way through the warehouse wall and roared across the open pavement. It reminded Clint just a little bit of Jurassic Park and he suddenly felt very small and very, very attached to the pallet.

Barney and the man seemed to have the same feelings. They reversed direction so quickly, Barney skidded on his heels and fell on his ass. Pushing back several times, he finally got traction and was up, sprinting directly towards Clint and pulling on the man’s collar to make him follow.

“Barney’s coming,” he warned Tony before twisting and trying to wrench the arrows in his arm from the pallet board. Whether it was the angle he was at or the waning strength from blood loss, though, he just couldn’t budge the arrows.

“How close?” Tony asked.

“I can’t move them.”

“No, how close is Barney, you numbskull?”

Clint looked up and quickly ducked his head back down. “Maybe fifty yards. Open your suit and get out of here.”

“I’m not going to just leave you.”

“Tony, get out of here. I’ll be right behind you.”

“No you won’t, Barton. You’re pinned,” Tony answered. “Do you trust me?”

“What?” Clint asked, still trying to wrench free his arm.

“Barton!” Tony shouted, drawing his attention. “Do you trust me?”

Clint hesitated and stared at Tony’s mask.

“Shit. That’s kind of what I thought,” Tony said with a resigned sigh. “Alright, listen to me, Clint. You’re going to go and have a happy life with Phil. Take care of him and promise me you’ll keep the team together.”

“What? Stark, shut up. Get out of here.”

“He had his shot and I’m not going to let him touch you again. Now, grab my hand.”

“Tony…”

“Just shut up and let me do this, you stubborn bastard! Grab my hand!”

With his good hand, Clint reached down and grabbed one of Tony’s armored ones.

“Jarvis!” Tony shouted. “Get him out of here.”

Repulsors in the glove fired, separating it from the rest of Tony’s suit with enough force to push Clint and the pallet backwards at speed. He was several hundred feet away by the time Barney reached Tony. Firing just off of the mass’ center forced the pallet to start to spin as it went and Clint soon lost sight of the pair.

“Nat! Get to Tony!” he shouted into the comm.

He heard gunfire erupt in answer and felt his body vibrate as the Hulk began to run across the pavement. As the repulsors gave out and the pallet came to a stop, Clint could just barely again catch sight of the space where Tony had been. It was empty, save for the pool of blood.

Nat got to him and cut him free, but his eyes never moved from the brush line. Even as she dragged him away and bundled him into the SUV, Clint still kept searching for any sign of Tony.

Clint tuned out the still screaming geeks and the sounds of Phil begging Steve to hold on. He was just too tired to pay attention so instead, silently focused on the rear view mirror and watched the Hulk watch them drive away. As Nat rounded the corner, Clint saw him look back across to where Tony had been and then bow his head.

Hulk sad.

“My thoughts exactly, big guy,” he mumbled to himself just before passing out.

***

They made it to a local medtech lab – a Stark Subsidiary – and soon found themselves in their own secure space. Steve, Clint, and Nat were all rushed into treatment, leaving Phil alone to coordinate Bruce’s recovery, transfer the prisoners, and worst of all, contact Pepper.

She left Seattle at once and arrived in her own suit.

“Phil,” she greeted him in an all business tone as she stepped out of the armor.

“Pepper,” he answered.

“Where is everyone?” she asked and Phil knew she meant everyone but Tony. She hadn’t flown this far to hear non-answers and excuses from him.

“Steve and Clint are still in surgery; Nat and Bruce are both in recovery.”

“I’d like to see them now,” she said firmly. Phil nodded and walked her back. It was pretty clear hurt feelings still ran deeply from their last parting. Phil was going to have to work hard to make that right again.

Phil stood back and watched as Pepper swept Nat up into a light hug and gracefully, subtly escorted her from the wall where she’d been leaning and over to the chair next to Bruce’s bed where he was sleeping off the Hulk’s effects. Though Bruce was the one lying in a bed, they both knew Nat was the one carrying injuries she refused to acknowledge.

He left them to talk and wandered back towards the surgical bays. Phil knew it would be a while before he had news but Phil wanted to be there just in case. He stood quietly in the hall and waited patiently. After a few minutes, Fury came to stand next to him.

“Phil,” he said by way of greeting.

“Nick,” he answered.

“We’ve taken your ‘collective’ into custody; a couple of frat boys looking to make easy money online. So help me, Phil, I remember a time when you needed more than a trust fund and a website to get S.H.I.E.L.D.’s attention.”

“Me too.”

“How is your team?”

“They’ve had better days. They’ve had worse, too.”

Nick nodded. “Any word on Stark?”

“Not yet. I was hoping you could…”

“And I’m going to stop you there, Phil. If Stark becomes my problem, then I become his solution. Do you follow me?”

“Not exactly, sir. He’s been kidnapped by a known criminal organization. That has to be a concern for you,” Phil responded, trying to keep his tone even.

“Oh it is, especially in light of… recent discoveries. But this is not a ‘have it both ways’ kind of situation, Phil. You want your Avengers to be independent right up until the point when things go sideways. Then suddenly, you want to be a part of S.H.I.E.L.D. again. I warned you about favors and this is exactly what I meant. You have to decide where you want to be.”

“I just need help finding him, sir. Your resources…”

“If you want to use S.H.I.E.L.D. resources to find him, then come back to S.H.I.E.L.D. and use them. Otherwise, you’re on your own.”

“You’re going to use a man’s life to force me back?”

“First of all, like that’s something we _don’t_ do,” Fury answered, lifting his eyebrow for emphasis. “And second, no. What I’m doing is giving you an opportunity I wouldn’t give anyone else. Except maybe Hill, but she wouldn’t have left me in the first place.”

“I didn’t leave you, Nick. I left S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Semantics,” Fury dismissed. “Do you want your badge or not?”

Phil kept his gaze steady even as his thoughts shifted to Clint and how pissed he was going to be when he found out.

“Want it? No. But I’ll take it. I’ll do whatever I have to do to find Tony.”

Reaching into his duster pocket, Fury pulled the badge and a new comm. and handed them over. “I’ll expect you in New York in three days. Until then, your time is yours. Sitwell will get you anything you need.”

Fury didn’t offer his hand and Phil wouldn’t have shaken it if he had. He understood Fury’s position, but he hated it. He hated being manipulated.

“How can I help?” Pepper’s quiet voice called to him from behind once Fury had left.

Turning to face her, Phil could see that she’d likely heard the whole exchange and was more soberly evaluating him than before. She looked warm and familiar, not at all like the stranger she’d become to him since Pottsville. But even still, it was a cautious look she was giving him and Phil thought he understood why. It hadn’t been that long before that Pepper had blamed Phil for putting Tony in harm’s way and worse, of betraying Tony’s friendship.

But time had passed and, well, Tony had been Tony. If there was one thing Phil and Pepper shared, it was the extreme frustration of being Tony’s only supporters. It was a bond reaffirmed both by her presence and Phil’s willingness to get strong-armed by Fury. They’d both do whatever it took to get Tony back and they both knew it.

“We need to track Barney,” he answered, sparing them the necessary apologies neither of them wanted to hear. “But I’m not sure what state the Avengers will be in when we find him.”

“If it’s money he’s after, he’ll have it. If not… my suit isn’t weaponized, but it can still hold its own.”

“I’m sure it can and I’ll appreciate any help.”

“What about Thor, have you heard from him?”

Thor. Phil could have kicked himself, he felt so stupid. Once again he was allowing himself to get caught up in Loki’s game and not doing the one thing that would likely end it. When would he learn?

“I’ll reach out to him.”

Pepper smiled at his answer. “I knew you of all people would know how to contact a god off the grid.”

Feeling the blush start to rise, Phil couldn’t help but smile either. “Well,” he deflected. “I follow Ms. Lewis on Twitter. I’ll send a message through her.”

They both shared a light laugh and everything felt OK again. It was amazing to Phil how Pepper could always make that happen.

A door down the hall opened and Phil’s smile dropped as his eyes flicked towards it, searching for Clint or his doctor. Pepper must have read the worry on his face because she came over and slipped her arm into his, pulling him close. It was just a light gesture of support but for a moment, Phil was convinced it was the only thing holding him upright.

***

Tony woke up in a storage container and couldn’t help but laugh. The karmic circle was apparently closing, bringing him back where everything had started. They’d even given him bucket to piss in. Ah, memories.

It hadn’t been an easy decision to give up the suit - frozen as it was, it wasn’t doing him much good and the loss of the glove had left his hand exposed. As much as he would have loved to believe he was impervious to pain, he wasn’t… and he had really wanted to keep his hand. So, with the last ounce of emergency power, he’d released the seals and tumbled out. They’d taken care of him from there.

He tried calling the suit to him, but it didn’t respond. They either had it locked down somewhere or it was still dead to the world. Either way, he was on his own. Fortunately, that was not a new situation for him.

Tony sat up and relaxed, passing the time by running numbers in his head. By the time they came to get him, he was half way to solving the heat distribution problem in his new line of energy efficient vehicles. Fuck you, Honda.

The guards dragged Tony out and shoved him roughly around until they were in a small lab in the middle of… wherever they were. He casually took in his surroundings – the ornate and delicate looking lab equipment, the requisite guards, the evil mad scientist guy in the corner… all pretty standard stuff, really. He was bored already.

“So, what’s the plan?” he asked the room.

“The plan, Stark, is for you to make me soldiers,” the man from the warehouse announced from a seat in the corner.

“Counteroffer: how about I don’t, you let me go, and we all head to Vegas. I heard about this strip club that does amazing sandwiches, plus, your boys here look like they could use a bit of fun. It’ll be great, my treat. You in? How about you?” he asked the two nearest guards.

“Sorry, but that doesn’t really work for me.”

Tony watched as Barney silently dropped from a vent in the back of the room and came to stand beside the man. What was it with the Bartons that made them reluctant to walk through doors?

“Chicago, then?” Tony continued. “At least let me treat you to dinner somewhere. I mean, you’ve been so nice and accommodating, it’s the least I can do.”

“No, the least you can do is die without making me soldiers.”

“Well… there is always that.”

Barney kept a calm smile and approached Tony’s seat. “I thought we had a nice conversation before, while you were still in your suit. Didn’t you think?”

Tony’s badly broken fingers involuntarily twitched at the words, but he managed to keep his defensive smile. “I did, yes. It was… stimulating.”

“I thought so, too. Would you like to pick up where we left off?”

“No, no. I’m pretty sure I got the gist of your meaning.”

“Good. So while we have this… understanding… I’d like you to listen to my client and make him whatever the fuck he wants.”

“Sure, yeah. Or better yet? Your client can just go fuck himself…”

A fierce roundhouse sent Tony flying from his chair. He caught himself with his broken hand and the pain made the fringes of his vision blacken. He closed his eyes and willed himself not to lose consciousness. It would be embarrassing.

“I would say you and your brother both hit like girls, but frankly… I’ve been hit by some pretty badass girls. Pepper alone has dropped me twice and I think only one of those times was accidental.”

“Very cute, Stark, but I don’t much care for your mouth. And I’m pretty sure you don’t need it to do your work.” Barney lifted Tony’s head by his hair, pulled a long knife, and held the blade tightly against his jaw. Tony could feel the blade cut into his skin and the blood begin to run down his chin. “I can close it for you if you’d like.”

“No, no. I’m good,” Tony answered quietly and very carefully.

Barney pulled the knife away, then quickly flicked the tip against Tony’s cheek, splitting it open about an inch.

“Good,” the ‘client’ said. “You and your friends cost me a hell of a lot of money today.”

“And your two friends,” Tony added, but the man waved a dismissing hand.

“Business expenses that you’ll now make up to me. Make me super soldiers. That’s what you said this thing is for, right?”

Tony paled at his words. How the hell had he been overheard? Was there a bug in Pottsville? What else did this guy know? Tony tried to stall.

“With what? This toy chemistry set?”

“It’s more than you had the last time. Or don’t you remember?”

Fuck, this guy knew everything. “Don’t remember you being there.”

The man shrugged and moved towards the door, Barney falling in step behind. “Regardless, I expect the same results, Stark,” the client called over his shoulder. “Don’t make me get my hands dirty.”

Tony gave him the moment to leave and then turned back, assessing the room, its equipment, and most of all, the two guards.

“Seriously… no one wants to go to Vegas?”

***

Nat and Bruce went with Pepper to try and find a way to track Tony while Phil stayed behind. He’d made plausible excuses about reading through S.H.I.E.L.D. files and profiling Barney - all of which was true - but really he just couldn’t bring himself to leave Recovery.

Steve had come through surgery in great shape. His healing factor had even become a problem for the surgeons as their incisions started healing faster than they could repair the damage to his heart. They estimated he wouldn’t even have any scars left in twenty four hours.

Clint had fared a little more roughly, but the doctors were confidant some physical therapy would see his arm good as new. The bigger problem for everyone had been getting Clint to stay in bed once he’d woken. With a cast on it, Clint was convinced his arm was stable enough for shooting and he’d been desperate to go after Barney. It had taken no small measure of convincing (and morphine use) to get him to rest first.

Phil ached to find him, too, but he was painfully rational enough to know they couldn’t do anything more without intelligence. Barney was a ghost and Tony’s suit was dead; finding either of them was a near impossibility at the moment.

And so Phil read through Barney’s files trying to gain any new insight into the man. ‘The greatest undercover asset we’ve ever had,’ was how one former SO had described him in a not uncommon sentiment. Agent after agent had praised Barney’s ability to disappear into the criminal underworld – _where he belonged_ being the overt if unwritten theme throughout. It didn’t take long for Phil to get the picture of Barney being continually used to push higher the careers of others.

It was clear Barney excelled in dangerous situations and had had at least a few friends in high places, but it was just as clear he had even more friends in low places. Faking his death and walking away had probably been just as easy for him to do as playing any of his undercover personas.

But it was the personality assessments that struck Phil. They were so remarkably similar to Clint’s – to the ones he himself had written– that he had to stop more than a few times and remind himself whose file he was reading. Phil couldn’t help but think that if time and circumstances had been different, he’d be hunting Clint now instead.

“I’m not the only one who needs to sleep, Phil,” Clint whispered sleepily to him, not even bothering to open his eyes. Phil smiled softly at the words and allowed an immobilized arm to pull him gently onto the gurney.

“I had a few things to do first,” he replied as he settled his head on Clint’s shoulder.

“Mm hmm,” Clint whispered into Phil’s hair.

“Let me ask you a question.”

“Shoot.”

“If I hadn’t been in the picture when S.H.I.E.L.D…. when you decided to leave S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Phil started.

“You mean when S.H.I.E.L.D. fucked me? Yeah. Go on.”

“If I hadn’t been around, what would you have done?”

Clint sighed a little and shifted, adjusting Phil’s weight against him. “I don’t know. I still know some people who’ll deal with me, find me merc jobs. Why?”

“I have a feeling that’s why Barney took the job with the Collective. I think the FBI played one too many games with him and he decided to walk away.”

“And we know for sure he’s working for them?”

“Yes, the two we brought back admitted as much in their interrogation.”

Phil could feel Clint tense just slightly as he’d said that. “You interrogated them?”

“No, S.H.I.E.L.D. did,” he admitted cautiously.

“And S.H.I.E.L.D. just happily shared their findings.”

“… Not exactly.”

“Hmm… I have a sinking feeling I know what that access cost you.”

“I’m sorry, Clint. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“And I’m sure Fury knew that when he played you,” Clint responded, drawing a deep breath and pushing Phil away just a bit. “Jesus, Phil… they’ll fuck anyone. And you just signed back up?”

“Of course I did. We need their resources.”

“So he found your price, you mean?”

“Don’t say it like that, Clint,” Phil answered. “You make it sound like I sold my soul.”

His statement was met with silence that forced Phil to sit up and look at him. “Clint, it’s not like I joined AIM. It’s S.H.I.E.L.D. You know the work they do, the work I’ve done, _we’ve_ done. They’re the good guys.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Phil. We’ve done a lot of questionable shit for them. You want to convince me every kill you’ve made sits well with you? Cause mine sure don’t. I mean, how many people have we fucked over in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s name, Phil?”

“Don’t do this, Clint. You know why we’ve done the things we’ve done.”

“I do. And they’re _why we walked away._ Do you even remember when we first met Thor and what we were supposed to do? That’s S.H.I.E.L.D., Phil. That’s how they work and you just signed right back up with them.”

Phil got up, no longer comfortable on the bed. He remembered well that first meeting with Thor and Jane. He’d been ordered to do more than just confiscate a van back then. Only Phil’s gut had stayed his hand, sparing Jane, Erik, and Darcy, not to mention Thor. In fact, there wasn’t a single Avenger who didn’t owe their life to Phil’s gut. S.H.I.E.L.D. had ordered them all put down at one time or another, even Cap. When S.H.I.E.L.D. had first seen him, they’d feared another Winter Soldier and only Phil had convinced them otherwise. And now that Phil had a chance to save Tony as well, he was going to take it.

“You know why I’m doing this, Clint. Please don’t make it harder than it is.”

“No, Phil. I think I will. Does it even matter to you what they did to me?”

“How can you ask me that?” Phil retorted, his own anger starting to rise. “Clint… I walked away from the only life I’d ever known _because_ of what they did to you.”

“Oh, that’s right. I’m the asshole who ruined your perfect life. ”

“Clint. What the hell has gotten into you? You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I don’t know anything, Phil. I _thought_ we had a new life where we set the rules.”

Phil crossed his arms defensively. He hated this, but that didn’t mean he was going to back down. He knew he’d made the right call and that Clint was being naive.

“And how long did you think that was going to last, Clint? An anarchic super organization in the middle of nowhere doing who knows what? How many organizations that sounded just like that have we raided? There was always going to come a time when Pottsville drew scrutiny. At least with me at S.H.I.E.L.D., I’ll be able to stop that.”

“Oh, so you’re our savior then. The next time S.H.I.E.L.D. wants to try Nat or experiment on Bruce… you’ll be there working favors, making sure we owe you. Cause isn’t that what this is really about? You gave up everything _for me_ and now it’s time for me to just shut up and pay you back. Let you go back without a word, like it’s no big deal. You’ve put in your time with me and Pottsville, right? Time to get back to work?”

“That’s not what it’s like at all.”

“Please. I know you hate it in Pottsville and always have. You have nothing to do there, no one to order around. You’ve been dying for a way to get back to S.H.I.E.L.D. and Tony just finally gave you the excuse. I mean, how long did it even take you to make up your mind? A few seconds? Or did it take a whole minute? Did I even weigh in the decision?”

Phil clenched his jaw to keep from spitting out something he’d regret. That Clint of all people couldn’t understand him… it was too much.

“You weigh in _every_ decision I make, Clint. How do you not get that by now? But I’m not going to stand by and let a man die because my pride won’t let me ask for help.”

“So what, you think I want Tony to die? Because I ‘won’t ask for help.’ Fuck you, then. We could have found him on our own. We’re good at what we do. When did you start doubting that?”

“And when did you stop trusting me?”

“The second you decided you knew better than any of us what needed to happen to save Tony. Finding him doesn’t rest on your shoulders alone, Phil. It’s on all of us. Get over yourself.”

Phil stepped back and swallowed the angry words he wanted to say. Instead, he took a breath and tried to see things from Clint’s perspective. There was the betrayal of going back, of course, but there had to be something more to get him this upset, something triggered by Tony.

“What did he say to you?” Phil asked quietly.

“What? Who?” Clint snapped back.

“Tony,” Phil answered. “What did he say to upset you this much?”

Clint’s eyes flicked away, no longer able to even look at Phil. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit. If you’re going to blame me for Tony being taken, then at least tell me why.”

“I’m not… that’s not what this is,” Clint answered quietly and Phil knew it wasn’t. But it was just as clear to him that there were a lot of fears swirling in Clint’s head, so Phil took a guess at the biggest one.

He moved back to the chair at Clint’s side and got eye level. “I’m not going to leave, Clint. S.H.I.E.L.D. could never make me do that.”

Clint scoffed. “You don’t know that.”

“Of course I do. If S.H.I.E.L.D. makes me choose, you’ll win every time.”

“I didn’t win this time,” he answered flatly.

Phil nodded to acknowledge and leaned closer. “You don’t need me sitting around holding your hand, Clint. When it comes to operations, you need me where I can do some good. And for everything else… nothing’s changed. You still come first,” Phil answered firmly. Clint still wouldn’t look at him and the quiet anger was still very clear in his eyes. Phil waited him out until Clint finally looked at him.

“You’re gonna have to prove that,” Clint said seriously and Phil knew he meant every syllable of it.

“I will. If S.H.I.E.L.D. plays any games with me, I’ll play them right back,” he answered just as seriously. When Clint finally nodded, Phil pressed on. “What did Tony tell you back in Pottsville?”

“That the team depended on me to protect them from the things they couldn’t see coming,” Clint answered robotically, as if the words had been replaying themselves over and over again in his head.

“You did what you could, Clint.”

“And he made me promise to keep the team together. I’ve done neither of those things.”

“You didn’t fail him, Clint. He made a choice.”

“For us. He’s gone because of us, Phil. How can I live with that?”

“By finding him and putting an arrow through Barney’s neck.”

Clint’s head snapped up at that, judging the seriousness of Phil’s words. “You’d let me do that?”

“I’ll help you aim.”

Clint reached out and slipped the fingers of his good hand between Phil’s, squeezing them tightly as if he could wrench out all the pain in one go.

“I hate that son of bitch, Phil.”

He closed his eyes and Phil watched him slowly regain control of his emotions. No one had ever caused Clint as much pain as Barney and Phil was going to make damn sure this was the last time he ever did.

“I’m pretty sure I do, too.”

***

“I’ve modified my suit’s sensors to detect even a trace amount of Starkium, but I’ll still need to be within a few miles. We need to narrow down a search radius,” Pepper said as everyone gathered in the lab’s conference room.

“Perhaps I can assist with that,” Thor announced from the doorway. He had arrived just moments earlier and true to form, spared no time for friendly chit chat. “If Loki is involved in Stark’s abduction - and I have no reason to believe he is not – then we may have better success tracking his movements than this elusive gang of yours.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed slightly at the suggestion. “You have a way to track him?”

“Not the way you’re thinking, I suspect, but I have found that each time Loki uses his passages to move between worlds, he leaves a kind of… disturbance if you will. I’m not sure how to describe it in your terms. It is as if the very air itself is disturbed by his movement. Perhaps you can search for that.”

“Radiation,” Bruce offered with a sudden alertness. “That’s… very interesting. I may be able to help after all.” He cast a broad smile in Nat’s direction and Phil watched her smile in return. They both knew the one thing Bruce wanted more than any other was to be able to help – _him_ , not the Other Guy. The excitement in his look was energizing and Phil started to feel his own optimism return.

Things were starting to look up.

***

Tony had been having such a pleasant dream.

Pepper was smiling at him the way only she could - the way that made her eyes crinkle right before she’d close them and pull her chin to her chest, trapping the laugh between them as he held her. He’d done something right, for once, and whatever it had been, it had lit her up with joy. She could hardly contain it as it erupted out of her in fits of giggles and light kisses. And he knew he was home and safe and everything was the way it was supposed to be.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, still smiling her joyful smile.

“Nothing,” he answered, still smiling his as he pulled her closer towards him. She wrapped her long, beautiful arms around his neck and let her nose touch his.

“What’s wrong?” she asked more seriously.

“Nothing,” he answered again, reaching in for another kiss.

But it had not been the answer she’d wanted to hear; the joy disappeared from her in an instant and her smile turned cruel. Her arms squeezed tightly against his neck and he could feel the pressure change in his head.

“What’s. Wrong?” she spat out.

“With what? What are you talking about?”

“What’s wrong with _you_?!” She was accusing him now, the question full of disgust. “What’s wrong with you? How could you?”

“How could I what? Pep, what are you talking about? Why are you so upset?”

Pepper pushed him weakly away and as he stumbled back, she fell to the ground, bleeding from a gaping wound in her chest. She looked up at him with the shocked, terrified expression of one who’d been betrayed.

“How could you?” she asked him weakly, almost begging him to answer. “To me… how could you?”

She fell facedown at his feet and he could see she was not alone. Her corpse sat atop others in a great mound of bodies beneath him. Horrified, he dropped to his knees in front of her and tried to pick her up, but her body turned to sand. He tried desperately to pick her up and roll her over, lift her head up onto his lap, but it all just fell away, the particles slipping through his fingers and disappearing into the mound. Her small hand, the last piece of her, lay just touching against his leg. He shifted his weight to see it better and the movement broke it apart, sending it to mix with the rest of his macabre dune.

Tony sprang up and tried to get away, but his feet sank in. The harder he tried to struggle and move, the deeper he sank. Within seconds, he had sunk to his waist.

Grasping frantically now, he tried to get on top of the mound and pull himself out. He flailed about looking for anything to gain purchase on, but the sand kept shifting and something below kept pulling him down.

Just before Tony’s head could sink in he caught a whiff of smoke – a familiar one that took him instantly back to his childhood. It was his father’s pipe; he remembered the distinctive smell of Howard’s imported tobacco. Tony looked around for the source and spotted his father standing just below him on solid ground, quietly puffing away while he watched Tony sink.

“Dad! Dad, help me!”

Howard continued to stare, giving no sign that he’d even heard Tony’s cry for help.

“Please, Dad! Please help me,” Tony begged. He could feel fingers now, wrapping around his ankles and toying with him. Howard slowly pulled the pipe from his mouth and considered Tony with the expression Tony most associated with his memory – frustration at being disturbed.

Howard casually knocked out the bowl against the heel of his shoe and pocketed the pipe, then slowly began trekking up the dune towards Tony. It appeared easy for him and he didn’t strain as he scaled the height and sent rivers of sand cascading down behind him.

“Dad! Oh, thank God. Thank you, Dad. I really needed your help…” Tony started to say with immense relief as Howard reached him and knelt to be closer. But on hearing Tony’s words, instead of lifting him out, Howard pressed his thumb against Tony’s forehead and slowly started to push him deeper in.

“Dad, wait! Dad… stop! Please,” Tony tried to say as he sank further in, but the sand started to fill his mouth. He couldn’t speak, he could only choke and die and watch his father’s cold eyes slowly send him downward…

Tony snapped awake, gasping for breath.

He had fallen asleep on the lab table and in his nightmare struggling, had begun choking on the lab coat/pillow he’d used. He sat up sharply and coughed as he tried to inhale. It took another moment and the shedding of several half-choked tears to get back in control.

Head hung down between his knees, Tony rubbed his good hand across his face and then through his hair, calming and focusing himself.

“Daddy… please!” Barney called out from across the room before erupting in a fit of laughter. “Oh, Stark. I don’t even know where to begin with that.”

“Well, we could start with your mother,” Tony answered back, causing Barney to erupt in even more laughter.

“If I even remembered her, then that might have been good.” Barney walked across to him and pulled a chair to get eye level. “Now, Stark… how are you coming with my client’s soldiers?”

“Pretty well, actually. I made this last night,” he answered, pulling a small, vaguely anamorphic robot from below him. He flicked the on switch and watched it teeter slowly across the table on its four spindly legs. “First thing you should know about me is that I don’t work without robots. It’s a rule. I’ll admit it’s not my best work and it bit me last night, but it’ll do. I named it Howard, you know, because of the bite.”

“Is this a game to you, Stark?”

“Yeah, pretty much. Speaking of games, why’d you fake your death? I mean, I get it – government work, am I right? It’s good for a man to explore his options, but that seemed a bit extreme. You could have just walked away.”

Barney shrugged and moved towards him. He picked up Howard and watched its legs scramble to relocate the table’s surface. “Bored,” he answered simply.

“Bored… with being a good guy?”

“Bored with the pretense. I was never a ‘good guy,’ Stark.”

“So I’ve heard. What was it you did to Clint again? Shot him?”

“I taught him the value of loyalty.”

“Oh… _loyalty_. Right right. Yeah, you scream loyalty. First thing I picked up about you.”

“This isn’t about that little shit.”

“Oh, it absolutely is, you see, you hurt my friend… and then left me alone with a chemistry set.”

The little robot exploded in Barney’s hand and Tony sprang into action. The ‘toy’ chemistry set hadn’t given him the power to build more than a smokey distraction, but he took full advantage and swung the lab table up, using it like a battering ram to push Barney to the wall. Then he kicked Barney’s exposed knee and heard the sickening crack of dislocation.

Dropping the full weight of the table on him, Tony ran for the door and throat punched the guard outside. The second guard was a little more difficult, Tony having lost the element of surprise, but his judo training proved handy. He was on his way in seconds and reaching for the three vials he’d stashed in his pocket.

The acid in one melted a door lock at the end of the hall and Tony quickly sprinted up the way. The guard at the end snapped a weapon towards him and Tony threw the second vial at him. The splashing acid forced the gun from his hand and Tony followed with a momentum-supported punch that dropped the man.

Tony reached out to the stairwell door but heard a faint shuffling sound behind him. Spinning quickly, he tried to throw the last vial, but never completed the motion. Instead, Barney threw a knife with lightening speed that impaled Tony’s wrist against the door. Tony cried out in pain and surprise and tried to get his broken hand to comply and pull the knife out, but much like Clint at the warehouse, he couldn’t control a grip strong enough to free himself.

“Stark, Stark, Stark…” Barney’s dark voice called to him from behind. “That was really pretty fucking stupid.”

The throbbing, burning pain was unbelievable. Tony felt completely feeble with both of his hands out of commission. As Barney started to limp towards him, he pulled more frantically on the knife. It was a pathetic, desperate gesture and Tony knew it, but still… he couldn’t think of what else to do. He couldn’t think about anything, frankly, except the blood gushing down his wrist and pooling with the acid from the now broken vial beneath him.

A second shot put an arrow through Tony’s other hand, pinning him completely to the wall. So help him, Tony wanted to cry. This was not at all working out to be a good day.

Pinned as he was, there was nothing Tony could do but struggle futilely. He tried to kick out, but Barney smacked down the attempt and slammed his head back against the door’s metal frame hard enough to make his feet go numb.

Tony had never been choked before, at least, not by another person and not intentionally. It was a singular experience. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t fight; all he could do was feel the strength of Barney’s fingers snuff the life from him.

Not that he didn’t fight. Tony kicked and strained with every ounce of strength he could muster and he tensed the muscles in his neck to somehow, maybe, if there was a God, protect his throat and save his life. But it was all so quick – mere seconds before the world turned dark.

That was the worst part and the terrifying final thought that filled Tony’s mind; just how quickly and easily Tony Stark – the Iron Man – could be removed from the world.

Dad had been right; he wasn’t anything special.

***

“It’s frankly disturbing how many unexplained radiation spikes I’ve been able to identify in the last few hours.” Bruce projected a global map with dozens of highlighted areas. “We know Loki’s been to Pottsville, so I started there, identified a faint signature, and then focused on that. These are the areas I believe Loki has visited and as you can see, most of them correspond with Barney’s investigations.”

“So we really haven’t narrowed it down that much,” Clint answered glumly.

“Well, I wouldn’t say that,” Bruce answered. He touched the projection and six sites changed color. “These are the most recent events and as you can see, all of them occurred within a few hours of here. Might be worth a look.”

“Pepper?” was all Phil had to ask; she’d already started moving towards the door.

“I’ll be in the air in a minute. I’ll let you know if I find anything,” she said over her shoulder.

“Sitwell?” Phil called out next.

“ _Yeah, boss?_ ”

“I want to know everything there is to know about those sites.”

“ _I’ll even gift wrap them for you.”_

Phil nodded slightly to himself, pleased that at least some things at S.H.I.E.L.D., like Sitwell’s wise-ass kissing, remained unchanged. When he looked up, the eyes of all Avengers were on him and it was pretty obvious they too could feel the excitement of the coming battle. God, he was going to miss this, miss them. But all good things, right? Time for one last adventure for old time’s sake.

Hold on, Tony. We’re coming.

***

Once again, Tony was having an oddly pleasant dream.

He was hiding in his father’s lab as he had done so many times as a child; peeking out between pieces of equipment and watching him build the most incredible things. He couldn’t help but be amazed and wonder if someday if he could be just like him.

The beep of an elevator door drew his attention, not because of the volume but because the sound seemed so out of place. As he looked, the lab slowly morphed into his old lab in Malibu.

Pepper stepped out of the elevator looking tall and beautiful and Tony couldn’t help but feel anything but warm at her sight. He stood up to greet her, but she didn’t seem to notice him; her eyes were fixed on Howard’s.

“What did you do to Tony?” she accused, but Howard ignored her. “Did you hear me? What have you done?”

“I made him,” he answered quietly, not bothering to look up.

“But into what?”

“Into nothing. All that matters is this.”

“You’re wrong. There’s more than this… this… lab, these things.”

“No!” Howard fired back, advancing on her. “ _You’re_ wrong. This is all that matters. Tony understands that and you’re just a distraction!”

Howard slammed her back into the wall, his hands on her throat as he lifted her off her feet. Tony tried to rush to her, but the cords and wires of Howard’s equipment wrapped around his ankles and stopped him. They climbed up his body like vines, pinning him in place so all he could do was watch as Pepper choked and tried to breathe, her eyes bulging from the panic and pressure. She thrashed and kicked, but Howard could not be moved and after a few horrible, painful moments, Pepper finally closed her eyes and stopped fighting with a final spasming kick. She fell to the floor like a rag doll.

Howard stepped over her casually and walked towards Tony, wiping his hands clean on a dirty rag before lighting his pipe and taking a long drag. He waited until Tony stopped struggling against the cords and regarded him.

“This is the only way you’ll learn, Tony. You always were so thick headed, needed everything spelled out for you.”

“Well you know what they say about genetics.”

“Yes, that it let genius skip a generation,” Howard answered. “Look at her.”

Tony refused to look at Pepper. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her bruised, contorted face.

“Look at her!” Howard demanded. “This is on you.”

The tears started to stream down Tony’s face. “Fuck you,” was all he could spit back. He had no one-liners, no glib comebacks, just disgust and terror and grief.

Howard stepped up, getting nose to nose with him. “Your mother didn’t raise a god damned idiot. Stop hiding. Fix it.”

Tony slowly opened his eyes and stared at his useless hands.

He was lying on concrete in a pool of his own piss and blood. Barney or someone had been good enough to bandage the wrists and at least try to stem the blood flow – how successfully remained to be seen. They hurt. His throat hurt. His head hurt. Everything hurt.

And yet they must have drugged him because he had never felt so awful. In fact, Tony tried to think of a time in his life when he had ever felt this sick and the closest he could come had been many years earlier and after a pretty spectacular bender. Over the course of several days, he had worked his way through enough alcohol to have probably killed him and slept with more women than he had actually stopped to count. It hadn’t even occurred to him back then, but now Tony could admit he might actually have been trying to kill himself. Go out with a bang, as it were.

That had been long before Pepper, long before Iron Man, and long before he’d learned he was capable of emotions like guilt and shame. Maybe that was why he was feeling those things so intensely now – they were making up for lost time.

As he rolled over and stared at the ceiling, Tony found he was reconsidering things; like his place in the world and the things that actually mattered when that place disappeared. What was it he’d been taught? ‘God grant me serenity’ and all of that bullshit? How many times had he said that prayer by this point? And why couldn’t he remember the words now?

Something about change, accepting change or not changing or something… Tony had been mouthing his way through the chant at the end of the AA meetings. Chanting wasn’t his style. He didn’t like the unity of it, or the handholding, or the belief that help lay with others.

And… fuck. Whatever they’d drugged him with would probably push his sobriety clock back to zero, too. He’d have to start fresh again and the thought of that really sucked. He’d been hoping to show Pepper a chip, show her he was changing.

Damn it if he didn’t really want a drink, too. Fucking Barney. Like this wasn’t hard enough as it was.

Tony let out a deep breath as he thought about Pepper. Until this, she had always stayed beside him, through all of his fuck ups. She was his rock and his moral compass. When had he stopped following her guide?

Well, maybe he hadn’t, not completely. Even now, as he lay in this hell, she was still there with him - hovering just out of reach in the recess of his mind like a quiet, comforting beacon of love and hope. She’d even stood up to Howard.

He just needed to find a way back to her.

Tony thought back to a happier time when he was standing with her on the balcony in Malibu. He’d brought wine up from the cellar and they’d watched the sun set over the water. Pepper loved watching the stars come out and he loved watching her smile. He loved how she would get this distant look like she was dreaming as she stared out. The only thing that rivaled that smile was the one Tony had seen when she’d tumbled out of her suit after her first test ride.

Pepper had beamed at him then as if her whole being was flooded with joy. Every time she returned home with the suit, she’d have a smile that seemed to echo it. It was a different one than that dream-smile of watching the stars. This new smile didn’t crinkle her eyes; it opened them wide like she was drawing new breath. It was a fulfilled, contented, happy smile and…

Aw, fuck, that’s what he’d done – or not done - he hadn’t seen it for what it was. All this time, he’d been focused on what Killian had done to her and had tried to fix it. He’d given Pepper the serum to stabilize her but afterwards, he’d starting thinking about how to fix _that_ and make her what she was again. Like Banner. Make him what he was again. Fix them both.

But they didn’t want that, did they?

‘Aw, Pep. I’m so sorry, baby. I thought I’d dragged you into all of this and fucked up your life, but I didn’t, did I? You’re happy like this… Jesus, I’m the stupidest man on the planet…’

A faint whirring sound drew his attention and forced him to open his eyes. The little robot, Howard, was on its side against the wall, struggling to right itself. Tony smiled at the sight and, remembering the dream, decided to go crush the life out of at least one Howard; make himself feel better.

He sat up slowly and worked his way across to it. He went to pull its little wires but the second he touched it, the prayer popped into his head, clear as if he was standing in a meeting.

_God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change;_

_courage to change the things I can;_

_and wisdom to know the difference._

It stopped him cold.

Tony looked around the room and at the guards watching him passively. It was so oddly similar to his childhood kidnapping that he couldn’t help but think he was being given a second chance. By someone. For some reason.

He’d opted to help some bad people back then and lives had been lost. All these years later, lives could still be lost and Tony wasn’t going to make that same mistake again. He was not going to help Barney under any circumstance. Dad had been right all along; his life just wasn’t worth it.

But, hey… maybe he could still go out with a bang.

Tony slowly, achingly worked his fingers and stripped off his shirt. When the guards gave him a curious look, he simply shrugged at them.

“It’s covered in blood. You mind?” he asked them.

One of the guards shrugged back and tossed him the set of clean scrubs that had been brought. Tony stood and slowly changed, making sure to take his time and nonchalantly turn his back to them.

Gingerly, Tony forced his fingers to pry back the cover plate of his power cell. He was really lucky Barney hadn’t taken it. Not too many people knew he didn’t need it to survive anymore; he’d had the shrapnel removed from his heart after the Mandarin and the power cell was just a remnant, filling the cavity and powering his suits.

Tony gently coaxed the power cell out of his chest and pulled at two of the wires. He joined them together in just the way they shouldn’t ever be joined and smiled as he heard the responding hum build in the air. There was something almost musical about the quickly building power surge…

He closed his eyes and apologized to Pepper for every fuck up he’d ever put her through.

_… grant me the courage to change the things I can…_

When the power cell blew, it leveled the entire building.

***

Pepper had begun scanning the collapsed and damaged buildings from miles out, letting Jarvis track the human-sized heat signatures as they moved about the compound. Or didn’t move, she noted in some cases. She had no way of knowing which signature belonged to Tony, but she knew his had to be close to the blast’s epicenter. If there was one thing Pepper could count on with him, it was that he was always the center of attention.

The problem she was trying very hard to ignore, however, was that very few of those signatures nearest the blast site were moving.

She landed heavily, having come in too quickly for a smoother grounding, but it allowed her to keep running at speed. She cleared several piles of collapsed wall with barely a hesitation and pushed her way into the most heavily damaged building. It wasn’t long before she found the first bodies; some dead, some merely unconscious.

Pepper pulled free those she could before she started taking fire from uninjured guards who had positioned themselves around the compound. It completely boggled her mind that they would shoot at her every time she emerged from the ruin carrying an injured man.

“They’re your own men!” she shouted across the compound to no avail as bullets clanged off of her suit. The guards continued firing and even started grouping for an assault on her position.

With a crack of thunder, Thor slammed into the ground between Pepper and her assailants. “I will deal with them, my lady. Go and find your quarry.”

Pepper nodded her thanks and watched as Thor launched Mjolnir at a small squad of men. The mighty hammer crashed through them and sent them flying in different directions before returning to Thor’s hand. Clearly, he would be able to hold his own until the others arrived, so she turned her attention and rushed back inside and towards an area deep in the building’s center where the ambient temperature was too high to distinguish individual heat signatures.

“Tony!” Pepper cried out over and over as she made her way under and through the rubble. “Tony! Can you hear me?”

“There are trace amounts of Starkium twenty yards to your right, Miss Potts. That may be Mr. Stark’s power cell,” Jarvis said calmly into her ear.

The lasers on her suit helped Pepper cut through beams and concrete blocks. She tossed the pieces aside as she dug deeper into the collapsed space and after a few minutes, she’d dug a hole large enough into the space to see the faint glow of Tony’s power cell.

“Tony! Hold on, I’m coming!”

She dug furiously to widen the space and then launched a hummingbird-sized drone from her suit. The tiny drone’s cameras let her see what it saw as it dropped down into the space and found its way around the rubble, searching for the power cell.

The power cell lay faintly glowing at the feet of what had clearly once been a guard. Pepper closed her eyes briefly at the sight before urging the robot on. It weaved its way through the tiniest of openings, following any noise or slight indication of movement.

“I knew you’d find me…” said a weak voice through the drone’s microphone.

“Tony!”

“Over here, little guy…”

A moment later, the drone had locked onto and found its way to where Tony lay under a considerable amount of rubble. He could barely open his eyes as he looked into the tiny camera.

“Can you even see me with this thing?”

“I can you see you perfectly,” Pepper answered without even trying to mask the relief in her voice. Hell, her heart was racing so badly, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he could hear that over the comm., too. “I’m coming to get you. Hang on.”

“No rush, baby. The table has me covered, so you know, I can hang out for a while. It’ll give us a chance to catch up. How was your day?” he asked with increasingly labored breathing.

“Pretty nice, actually. You know how I love a lazy Sunday…” she answered calmly even as she tried to move that much more quickly to clear the rubble and get to him. “I see you threw your power cell away.”

“I gave it to Howard… let him run it through the vents.”

“What?” she asked, assuming he was delusional from shock.

“It’s alright. I’ve been meaning to get a new one anyway,” he answered, clearly drifting away. “These guys wanted to see what I could do…”

“Your field tests always do wow the clients,” she managed to say calmly as the panic rose. There was no way she was going to get this close only to lose him.

Finally, her lasers cut through a key beam and she was able to drop down into the space with Tony. She flipped open her face mask as she got close to his position.

“There you are, baby…” he said even more weakly. “I missed you so much…”

“Hold on, Tony. I’ll have you free in a minute.”

He nodded and closed his eyes as she pulled the shielding lab table up and off of him.

“I’m so sorry, Pepper.”

“For what, Tony?”

“Everything. I’m so… I know what I did to you. And Banner.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked as she cleared the last piece that was pinning him. “Well, you can tell me all about your epiphany over coffee.”

“Coffee?”

Pepper leaned down and kissed him softly. “Yes, Tony. I’m going to get you out of here and then you’re going to take me for coffee.”

He nodded. “Ok. I like coffee. There are a lot of great places in Seattle…”

Pepper picked him up as gently as she could and flipped down her mask. “Seattle is nice, but I think I like New York better.”

She fired her repulsors and lifted them out of the ruins.

***

“ _I’ve got Tony. I’m taking him for help,”_ Pepper’s voice called over the comm.

“That’s excellent, Miss Potts! We’ll take care of the rest,” Steve’s voice called in reply. “Mr. Barton? I believe you’re up.”

Clint dropped from the chopper as it did a quick pass over an out building. He rolled with his landing and came up sprinting towards the edge. With a graceful leap off, he crashed into a guard tower and kicked through the two men standing there. He had eyes on the whole compound from the spot and began quickly firing arrows. The immobilized arm slowed him a bit, but even still, Clint was able to take out the men closest to Thor first, freeing him up to join the others as their chopper landed in the center of the compound.

The hired mercenaries were no match for Avengers. Between Clint and Thor, so many mercs had fallen before the chopper touched down that Natasha merely stepped calming onto the grounds and surveyed the scene. But then again, her task had never been to secure the grounds; she and Clint were to track down the leaders.

“Company coming, guys. Time to move,’ Clint warned them over the comm.

As if on cue, three SUVs burst through a gate at the far end of the compound and began speeding towards them. As they approached, Bruce stepped lightly out of the chopper, and moved to Nat’s side. He smiled and gave her a light kiss.

“Have fun,” he said to her.

“I’ll see you tonight,” she answered. She stole another kiss, winked, and ran towards one of the undamaged buildings.

“Eww, guys. I’m gagging at the sweetness. Even Phil and I don’t talk like that on the comms, right hot stuff?” Clint called to them.

“ _Stay on task everyone_ ,” Phil answered. “ _Bruce, take care of that incoming.”_

Bruce giggled in response. “You got it, _hot stuff,”_ he answered before starting a light sprint towards the SUVs. He covered half the distance before he started to changeand when the Other Guy finally emerged, Clint noted he too was giggling.

“Heh. Hot. Stuff,” rumbled mirthfully across the courtyard just before a large green fist slammed through an engine block.

“Well, guess that’s my cue as well,” Clint called out as he started to move.

He hit the ground and rolled, moving in the opposite direction as Nat. They had agreed to split up to clear the compound (and may or may not have had a small bet going to see who could clear their half first).

He fired arrows rapidly as he ran; hitting as many targets as he could, no matter their distance or position. He found ways to flush them from hiding spots and herd guards towards the waiting team, determined the fight would end quickly.

He sprinted towards a far wall, wanting a better vantage point to hit the other half of the compound. A quick count showed he still had about fifty arrows in his quiver, which seemed like more than enough…

Until he climbed up the next building and got a peak into the other half of the compound. At least twice that many men stood ready in a loose formation.

Barney had a fucking army. This was clearly no simple smuggling operation and the disaster from the warehouse quickly flashed to mind. Had he been stupid enough to underestimate again?

“Holy shit… Guys, we got a problem here.”

 _“There is no problem, Barton_ ,” Phil’s calm voice announced over the comm. “ _Stand aside, please.”_

Clint did so without questioning. He jumped down off the wall and moved to get a view from a safer distance as six heavily armed S.H.I.E.L.D. harriers descended on the space and fired in a perimeter pattern all around the army.

“This compound is now under the authority of S.H.I.E.L.D.” Phil announced to the soldiers from somewhere above. “You are being given one opportunity to put down your weapons and surrender. You will not be given a second chance to comply.”

A few of the soldiers foolishly decided to fight, but their failed bout of resistance seemed to spur the others into action. Weapons dropped all over the compound. Maybe having Phil back at S.H.I.E.L.D had its advantages after all…

“Is it weird that I was turned on by that?” Clint asked.

“ _Stay on target, Barton_ ,” Phil answered in his ‘ops monotone,’ though Clint was sure he could hear the smile in his voice.

“Always, sir. Any sign of Barney?”

“ _Someone is trying to hide on the roof of building twelve,”_ Phil replied. “ _I’d start there_.”

“Thanks for the aim,” Clint answered already sprinting for the building in the far corner of the compound.

“ _Have fun_ ,” Phil mimicked Bruce.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Clint answered.

“Heh heh… Hot stuff…” rumbled back at them across the compound and Clint smiled broadly. God, he loved this team.

And he wasn’t going to let Barney fuck it up.

Scurrying up the drainage pipe of another building, he cautiously peeked out over its roof towards building twelve. He knew that if Barney was looking to fire, it wouldn’t be to simply maim him this time. As predicted, a pair of shots ricocheted off the concrete in front of him, closely enough to pepper his face with the dust.

“Yeah, that’s Barney. Any chance someone can give me some cover?”

“ _Of course, friend_!” Thor shouted over the comm. A moment later, he was running into the space between the brothers. Lifting Mjolnir skyward, Thor summoned a bolt of lightning and guided it to down in front of him with explosive force. A tremendous dust cloud boiled up, making a screen Clint knew even Barney wouldn’t be able to see through.

Clint dropped to the ground and sprinted towards Thor, but his still-tender thigh was clearly slowing him down; he’d never make it before the cloud dissipated. Thor must have noted it as well, for as Clint moved to run past him, Thor stopped him instead and grabbed him by the collar and belt.

“Fly, friend Hawk! Good hunting!” he shouted as he twirled Clint once like a shot-put and launched him across the remaining space.

Clint flew through the air, so comfortable in his element that the world around him seemed to slow down. He could just make out Barney’s partially concealed figure and his eyes widening in surprise as he realized Clint was no longer where he’d expected him to be. Barney started to lift his rifle to re-aim, but Clint had already drawn back on his bow. He put an arrow through Barney’s shoulder before arcing down and landing with a roll.

It didn’t seem to slow Barney down, though. He was up and firing at the roof’s edge as Clint reached the shielding safety of a junction box. Or relative safety, that was; Barney began targeting the box heavily and Clint realized it was likely to blow.

He took off running down the side of the building and kicked his way up off a dumpster and grabbed a second-floor window sill. As quickly as he could, he pulled himself up and leapt for the next floor’s window. His toes dug as surely into the inch-wide sill as if he had feet of space and he used it to launch up and over towards the gutter before pulled himself the rest of the way to the roof.

Shots ricocheted before he could even poke his head above the wall. He pinned himself flat against the wall and listened to Barney’s running footsteps draw closer. Clint couldn’t help but smile – like he’d never been in this position before…

Wedging his cast between the gutter and wall for stability, Clint pulled a boomerang arrow from his quiver. He wouldn’t be able to fire it from the bow, but he didn’t need to; that was the beauty of a boomerang. He snapped it from the arrow shaft and launched it out into the air. It swung back above him and hit its target with a sickening thud. At the sound, Clint freed his arm and bounded up over the roof’s lip in one smooth motion.

Barney had been clipped in the knee, it appeared. He had taken the hit and rolled, allowing him to still make quick time towards the building’s exhaust fans despite the useless leg he was dragging. He fired back at Clint as he landed and Clint couldn’t help but think that under any other circumstance, the shot would have been center mass instead of grazing his side like it did. Barney was clearly unfocused and the thought made Clint smile broadly. He fired a pair of arrows at Barney’s evading figure and then moved to take shelter on the opposite side of the fan.

“Hey, Barn! How you been?” he called out. “Seems like ages since we caught up properly.”

Barney fired a pair of pistol shots through the exhaust fan, but they clanged harmlessly off of the blades.

“Really? Is that anyway to great long lost family?”

“You were never family,” Barney spit back.

“Aww… now that goes and hurts my feelings, Barn. Or, well, it _would_ if I didn’t feel exactly the same way.”

Barney fired two more shots through the fan and Clint laughed at the futility.

“Seriously? Through the fan, Barn? Stuff like that makes me wonder why I ever looked up to you. Fucking moron. If you’re going to do something like that…”

Clint stood quickly and drew two arrows back on his bow. He fired them in rapid, but stuttered succession; the first arrow wedging itself and briefly stopping the blades, allowing the second to sail through the opening, out the far grate, and right into the side of Barney’s neck. Barney dropped like a stone and Clint quickly climbed up onto the fan. He stood above Barney with another pair of arrows drawn towards him.

“… then you need to at least stop the blades. I mean, really. Think it through,” Clint continued.

“I did…” Barney sneered. He unfolded his hand and rolled a trio of small, magnetized explosives towards the fan. They moved along the metal edge and then as one, suddenly clamped themselves to the far side.

‘Aw, shit…’ was all that ran through Clint’s head as he leapt off and sprinted for the roof’s ledge. He’d barely cleared the edge when the explosion hit and pushed him that much further through the air. He landed with a heavy crash and for a moment, was too stunned to even register just how far away he’d landed. Even still, Clint nocked a pair of arrows and kept them aimed at building twelve, watching for any sign of Barney looking over the roof. Since Clint was seeing two of everything, he figured if Barney looked over, he’d hit both of him to be sure.

One of the S.H.I.E.L.D. harriers moved in over the building and shone lights into the slowly collapsing roof. An assault team followed quickly after, moving in to take the building. Clint listening to the steady chorus of “clear!” come over the comm. as the team moved floor by floor, but didn’t bother getting up to join them. He knew Barney was already gone.

Man, he hated that bastard.

Cap appeared above him as Clint’s vision started to settle back to normal. He held out a hand and helped Clint to his feet.

“He’s injured and on the run. He won’t get far,” Cap offered.

“He doesn’t need to get far to cause trouble, sir.”

“That may be true, but frankly? Neither do we.”

They both turned and looked across the way at Natasha trying to talk down the Hulk. He’d continued smashing the compound’s buildings out of apparently the sheer fun of it and just didn’t want to accept that the battle had been over so quickly. Clint chuckled to himself as he looked skyward towards Phil’s harriers and wondered whose boyfriend could cause more damage. It was a debate he’d have to have with Nat later.

“Hey,” he asked Cap as he continued surveying the field. “Where’s Thor?”

***

Throwing Clint at his brother had been exceptionally fun. In fact, this whole outing was proving invigorating. There was nothing quite like the call of battle to stir the soul, even if it was as simple a fight as this one had proved. Indeed, Thor had only taken a few blows to the head this whole day; it hardly seemed sporting.

“Greetings, brother,” he heard a voice call from behind.

“Loki,” he answered, turning to face his own brother. “I understand you’ve had some hand in all this.”

“Oh, more than just a hand…”

“To what end, Loki? What profit do you seek?”

Loki smiled and held his hands wide to the space between them. “This, brother. You. Here, speaking with me as brothers are want to do.”

“All this just to speak with me?”

“Well, not just… but yes. You have made yourself very difficult to find and even Heimdall refused me. I was forced to take more drastic measures,” Loki answered before leaning in as if to share a secret. “But I have always known how to call you...”

Disgust welled inside Thor as he thought of the death and pain caused so blithely. “You did not need these means, Loki. We are not enemies”

Loki shrugged and turned away, clearly loving the drama of his moment. “But I did and here we are with much to discuss. Your lady, for instance.” He turned back sharply as he said it, a coy smile on his face.

“Mark your next words very carefully, brother,” Thor warned.

“She is lovely, isn’t she? I understand her appeal. Especially when she sleeps. How she curls her hand to just touch her face... such an innocent gesture.”

Loki handed Thor a small cube. As he took it, a small image of a sleeping Jane projected from it. With murderous eyes, Thor slowly looked away and back at his brother; Loki smiled back as if it was the very reaction he had hoped for.

“It is clear she has not yet learned to fear the monsters under your bed. She will, though…”Loki continued before Thor grabbed him by the shirtfront and lifted him off his feet.

“How have you…”

Loki tutted. “When you used Mjolnir, you made yourself visible to my Sight. I merely traced your steps and paid her a visit. We had a lovely chat.”

“If you have harmed her in any way…!”

“Of course not, brother. That would be no way to treat the mother of the future queen of Asgard.”

Stunned by the words, Thor just held Loki aloft unsure whether to break him or hear his inevitable lie. Loki smiled broadly at the hesitation.

“Yes, brother. Your lady is with child. I’m not surprised she hasn’t told you as I’m not sure she knows herself. That’s a human life for you – so frail, so vulnerable when even its own mother can’t detect its presence…”

“What do you want, Loki?” Thor whispered, almost afraid to hear the answer.

The smile dropped from Loki’s face as all pretense of good humor disappeared. “I will not have a human pretender to the throne, brother, so hear me and hear me well; relinquish your claim to the throne. Live out your happy life here on Midgard and I swear no harm will come to your family.”

“And if I refuse?”

“I promise your child will not live to be born.”

The threat hung in the air for no more than a few seconds. Thor had seen this look of Loki’s before and knew without doubt the threat was good.

“I relinquish my claim,” he said quietly but firmly as he settled Loki back down onto his feet. Loki nodded solemnly and allowed his smile to return.

“You have made the right decision, brother.”

Loki stepped back just a little and brushed his hands down his front, straightening the wrenched cloth. He took one last survey of the compound and started to leave but turned back as if he’d forgotten something. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a short, thin necklace of intricately woven metal strung around a tiny pendant.

He placed it gently in Thor’s hand and smiled lightly. There was no mistaking his look for any of the scripted ones he’d used throughout this little drama. Instead, it was a simple, honest look; one that reminded Thor quite suddenly of the happy times in childhood when they would play together with loyal and loving hearts. When they were true brothers.

“You will make an excellent father, Thor,” he said quietly.

And he was gone.

***

Pepper flew Tony straight back to the MedTech lab without allowing the S.H.I.E.L.D. teams to so much as look at him; her trust was so thin, she wanted no one but her own people looking after him. Once stable, she had him flown back to Stark Tower to recover in peace.

Thor, Jane, Darcy and Erik arrived a few days later, looking cautious and bleary-eyed. It had taken surprisingly little convincing to bring them to New York. Even though Pepper had offered them a safe home and laboratory space within the Tower, she was convinced they would have come on the offer of friendship alone.

It was obvious Loki’s threat weighed heavily on them and each Avenger seemed to take that personally. No one wanted to head back to Pottsville while one of their own was in danger and so Pepper offered them each a place to stay. By the end of the week, it was as if they’d always lived there.

The only one who seemed unhappy with the arrangement was Clint. He had no druthers where he lived or how; all that matter was that Phil was with him. Phil was his home and without him there, the most cavernous, lushly furnished apartment Pepper could offer seemed as horribly empty as that dirt-floored tent he’d had at the Circus.

Phil had told Clint he’d be along shortly, after he settled the Collective’s affairs with S.H.I.E.L.D., but as the days turned into weeks it became clear that Phil and Clint had very different definitions of ‘shortly.’

When Phil did finally arrive, it was in the early morning and just as Clint was beginning to stir.

“Mr. Barton, sir. Agent Coulson is approaching the door. Shall I let him in?” Jarvis called softly to him. Clint sleepily grunted his assent and started stumbling towards the door in his boxer briefs. He ran a quick hand through his bed-head – making it worse, rather than better. He knew what that look did for Phil and wanted to remind him what he’d missed while playing games with Fury.

Phil was just opening the door as Clint reached it.

“I’m sorry, I know you’re pissed at me,” he said as he handed over a coffee and little brown bag. Clint closed his eyes and smelled the aroma from his favorite, greasy breakfast sandwich.

“Not any more, I’m not,” Clint answered with a sleepy smile. He walked them both back to the kitchen island and pulled out the pair of sandwiches.

“You were gone an awful long time for paper work, Phil.”

“Yes,” Phil sighed heavily. “There was some follow up that needed to be done. The Collective is a much larger organization than we initially thought. They’ve had their hands in some pretty heavy tech for a while and I think we’ve only just scratched the surface.”

“So we’re gonna have more ‘follow up’ to do?” Clint asked through a bite of food.

“I think so.”

“And… Barney?” Clint asked, casually looking down at his coffee.

“Nothing yet.”

Clint nodded at the answer he knew he’d hear. “You won’t find him, Phil. Not until he wants to be found.”

“We’ll find him,” Phil answered with absolute confidence. Clint smiled after a moment. If anyone _could_ find Barney, it was probably Phil.

“So what did I miss?” Phil asked, taking a large enough bite from his sandwich to make Clint wonder when was the last time Phil had eaten. Or slept, judging by the dark circles under his eyes.

“Well, Stark’s different. He’s all nice and apologetic. He keeps buying us stuff, asking how we’re doing… it’s freaking Pepper out.”

Chuckling, Phil nodded towards the enormous, dust-covered television on the wall. “Yes, that didn’t strike me as something you’d pick out. And everyone else? Everyone’s good?”

“Phil,” Clint said, giving him a look to cut the worried act. “What’s going on? What took you so long?”

Phil’s exhausted shoulders dropped at the questions. The look aged him and made Clint want to wrap him up and take away his burdens. “Nothing, I just really wanted to find him for you.”

Clint thought back to their conversation in the lab and realized Phil was already trying to prove things to him; prove his loyalty, prove his love. Clint knew he’d spend the rest of his life trying to prove himself if Clint let him.

God, he loved this man, old fool that he was.

Clint took his hand and squeezed it. “You’re not going to find him, Phil, no matter how hard you look. I remember one time he took off just to prove that point to me. I looked everywhere for him and the Swordsman even sent his guys around. It was like six weeks later when he finally showed up. One of the guys tried to sell me but Barn dropped out of nowhere and convinced him I had long term value. Turned out he’d been living in the carts the whole time and we never knew.”

“They tried to sell you?” Phil asked cautiously.

Clint shrugged. “Everyone had to earn their money. You did it on the floor or you did somewhere else. That’s when Barn started teaching me to shoot.”

“He was there for you.”

“Well… let’s not get carried away. He left an eight year old on his own with strangers. He wasn’t exactly brother of the year.”

“No, but in his way, he was still watching over you.”

One look at Phil’s weary face was enough to stifle the continued protest that rose in Clint’s mind. Phil needed to believe in people; it was what drove him to sacrifice and do the things he did. Clint didn’t want to be the one to crush that beautiful part of his soul no matter how surely he knew there would be no redemption for Barney.

“You watch over me,” he said. “That’s what I care about.”

“Still, I’m sorry anyway.”

“Don’t be. Eat,” he urged quietly. “You look like hell.”

“Gee, thanks” Phil answered with a wry smile, but complied. When he was finished eating, Clint took him by the hand and led him quietly back through the apartment and towards their new bedroom. He took Phil’s jacket and tie and hung them up while Phil slipped out of his pants and shirt. They crawled into bed and Clint wrapped him up tightly.

“Don’t try to make Barney something he’s not, Phil. You’re the only family I need,” he whispered into Phil’s ear. Phil nodded just a little, just enough to tell Clint he was already drifting off. “You don’t have to prove anything else to me.”

***

Loki sat on a rooftop ledge half way across Manhattan, watching the sun rise against the familiar shape of Stark Tower. He hummed happily to himself and let his dangling legs swing in the stiff breeze.

“Hello, Father,” he called over his shoulder; he’d seen the raven spy pass over earlier and knew whom to expect.

“Once again, Loki, your methods confound me,” Odin said as he appeared and moved to sit next to him on the narrow ledge. “There were so many easier ways to protect your brother.”

“But none nearly as much fun, Father.”

“How can this possibly be fun for you? You are the most wanted man on Midgard.”

“Oh Father,” Loki answered in a mocking tone. “That _is_ the fun.”

Odin sighed deeply and looked out over the city. Loki couldn’t help but note the disgust in his look; it made him smile all the more broadly. As dirty and as human as this city was, he’d never felt quite so at home. That his father hated it made it seem all the better.

“Thor has renounced his claim,” Loki continued. “And so, your precious heir – and his – are safe for now. Will you even tell him of the war that has begun? And the threats that have been made?” he asked, rolling his head to look at Odin’s staunchly forward-facing profile.

“And your advantage in all of this?”

Loki laughed inwardly at Odin’s refusal to answer. He hadn’t expected him to, anyway. “Stark will look more closely at his father’s archive, now. He will find what I need him to find.”

“Always with the games, Loki. Can you not do anything in a straight forward manner?”

“Can you, Father?” Loki asked him bluntly. He watched as Odin simply smiled and once again felt like a child kneeling at his father’s feet. Odin was the master of all games and Loki could only begin to guess at his play.

After another moment, Loki accepted he would not get an answer and turned more serious. “I will keep Thor and his family safe, Father. You have my word.”

Odin finally turned to face him and smiled in a way Loki had rarely seen – a father’s proud smile. He leaned over and kissed him lightly on the temple. “I know that you will, but remember that Thor is not the only heir I would see kept safe. These are treacherous games you play. Be careful, my son.”

Odin disappeared as quickly as he had shown and Loki turned back to the city.

“You as well, old man.”

*****


End file.
